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[🌧️/🥀] Put the Knife Away, Jerz. ~ New Jersey Angst

Requested by: whyisrussia745

RATED: Mature, Suicidal Tendencies/Thoughts, Self Harm, Swearing
PAIRING: N/A
SUMMARY: NJ tries to off himself and CA has to convince him that he's important.

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No one's pov

New Jersey walked into the living room as the other states flooded out of the meeting room. He'd skipped again and wasn't sure how that was going to blow over today. He didn't really think anyone ever noticed he was gone at those stupid things anyway.

If they really did need him they would've called him, right?

Whatever he's overthinking this anyway. He sat down on the couch as the northeastern's sat around talking about the meeting. Well talking was a nice word. It was more like complaining about everything under the sun.

How the southerners were so loud. How California never stopped talking. He watched California walk by as they spoke about him and he always felt a little bit bad for him. He didn't deserve that but here he was. New York made an offhand comment about the Eagles which sparked a completely different argument against their region.

New Jersey hated football arguments. Not only was he completely uninterested but it made him want to remove himself. He couldn't stand the way they trashed on each other over this. It all felt so petty.

So he left. He got up and walked out without a word.

He returned to his room and sat down against the wall. He turned on his music and started scribbling on a notebook he had. He heard a loud bell ring and he got up to go get dinner.

When he walked into the kitchen he saw a few people already there so he grabbed his food and sat down quietly. He normally talked to people but this whole week he had no motivation and no topics to discuss. He couldn't say it didn't hurt when no one batted an eye at him staying silent because it did. They barely even noticed him. Florida spoke to him once or twice but the conversation did not involve him.

As the others ate he looked down at his half finished food and got up. He threw it away and left without a word. If anyone had noticed he didn't because he barely even looked back.

He'd left his music running in his room and sat back down at his desk behind his closed door. He ripped the page covered in scribbles out of his book. He chucked it in the bin and started drawing on a new page.

This hurt. His life was just passing him by, he was on autopilot at this point and he couldn't seem to take himself out. He got up and walked over to his wall. He stared at it knowing full well New York was on the other side and he punched the wall so hard it could've been heard on the floor below. He punched the wall again and again until his knuckles were bleeding.

He laid down in the corner to cry the tears that wouldn't go. He didn't have tears anymore, he'd spent all his life playing tough that his tear ducts had dried up. Or something like that.

Why was he even still alive? What was the fucking point. New Jersey's body pulled itself in so he was as small as possible, still curled up on the floor. He stared at the carpet, thinking about how he couldn't die. He wouldn't fucking die. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't die.

But it felt so good to try. To plunge that knife right into your abdomen and watch yourself bleed oh only to wake up the next day. To take far too much medication and watch the world get all fuzzy and then dark. Of course, waking up the next day was almost disappointing.

He got up and walked out of his room again. His knuckles were bleeding still but he just needed to feel something more. To feel death creep onto himself. He also wanted to do it infront of everyone. It was so dumb but he'd tried dying alone before. He didn't like it. It made him feel even more worthless than whatever led him to try before.

He walked through the living room to the kitchen, seemingly unnoticed. Except by a few states who glanced in his direction. He took the knife out of the knife block quickly. He leaned himself against the counter and prepared himself.

He counted himself down. 3.. 2.. 1-

the knife was forcefully taken out of his hands. "What the fuck are you doing?!" California shouted at him as he set the knife on the counter. New Jersey had almost forgotten about the consequences of trying to end it all, like how if someone finds you they will not be happy.

New Jersey just opened and closed his mouth as a few people appeared behind California. Pennsylvania made eye contact with the knife and then him. That hurt.

New Jersey just went to get around but Cal stopped him. Delaware was also with Penn and he looked just about as worried. Cal had Jersey up against the counter and would not let him move until he got his answer. "I was just- putting myself to sleep. I mean we don't die so..."

Cal and Penn looked horrified. "Can I go to my room now?" Jersey asked genuinely out of annoyance. "I'm going with you then." Cal responded.

Jersey shrugged and started walking. 'When the fuck did these people start caring about him?' Was all he thought as Cal followed him to his room. It's like being a prisoner being led back to his cell after trying to escape.

Jersey went to close the door but Cal walked right in and stared at the bloody marks on his walls and then looked back at Jersey who avoided all eye contact to the best of his abilities.

He laid down in his bed as Cal sat at his desk. Jersey grabbed the blade he kept tucked away in his sheets and started cutting himself under his comforter as he looked up at Cal. "Why are you here?" He asked the other who didn't notice him cutting.

"Because you can't just leave someone alone after they try that. It doesn't feel good to be alone afterwards and you know it.." Jersey raised an eyebrow at him. "I know that, but how do you know that?."

Cal looked away "take a wild guess." Jersey looked down at his arm beneath the comforter. "But this isn't about me. This is about you and you being alone." Jersey shrugged. Cal got up and walked over to Jersey, taking the blanket off his arm. Jersey panicked as Cal grabbed the blade and threw it aside.

"I may have been born in the dark but it wasn't yesterday, did you seriously think I wouldn't notice you doing that??" Jersey looked away and backed into the corner.

Cal sat down with him and stared. "You don't deserve to die, Jerz." New Jersey looked visibly taken aback by that nickname. "Yes I do." Jersey started crumbling after this.

"No you don't. Never say that." Cal grabbed New Jersey's hands and held them together. "You are a crucial part of so many people's lives who don't tell you how much they appreciate you enough because of how they were raised so I'll say it; you are loved, Jerz. And you clearly don't hear it enough so you are important and I and plenty of others need you alive."

Jersey looked down at his lap. God he didn't want to believe any of this. He still wanted to be gone. Why was he like this?

"Jerz, look at me." Jersey looked up at him and blinked away a tear. "York needs you, Penn needs you, Dela needs you, Connie needs you, Rhodie needs you, and they are all too stubborn to tell you that but they do. I know they would be so damn lost without you." Jersey nodded and wiped his eyes. "Thanks, Cal." He looked away and cringed at how nice he was being.

Cal nodded and got up, taking his hand. "C'mon let's go get you cleaned up, Jerz." Jersey let him lead him out of his room and into the bathroom. As Cal wrapped his wounds he felt a feeling of care wash over him.

Maybe people did need him...?

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A/N-
1379 words! :)

Hope you enjoyed! I'm gonna go back into hibernation now! (Remember my ao3 is northstarstate)