The Styles Triplets

Chapter Twenty-Three

(*YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOO MUCH <3*)

Harrys POV

"Ow," I grit my teeth as the nurse
stitches up the slit across the palm of my hand.

"How did this happen?" the middle aged woman asks me as she finishes up.

"Uh my brothers and I broke a window playing football and I picked up a piece of glass," I lied. I feel like this woman shouldn't know what really happened.

"Well next time be careful," she doesn't seem to ask about the amount of blood all over my sweater. As soon as she releases me, I go back into the lobby with Edward.

"Is he okay?" I ask him. He's sitting on one of the chair with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands covering his face.

"I don't fucking know," he cries. I sit next to him and pat his back. I feel the tears falling down my face as I join him.

"Did you call mom and dad?" he looks up at me with his watery eyes.

"No, but I'm sure they already know," mom and dad get immediate alerts from the hospital if the ambulance is called to the house. I don't know why but I'm guessing it's because we get hurt a lot, mainly Eddy and I.

"Boys are you okay?" mother comes out the elevator with dad following whims her.

"Yeah were fine," Edward growls.

"What the hell happened?" Dad nearly shouts.

"Dez please," my mother cries, "Harry what happened to you?" She grabs my wrist and notices the fresh stitches sewed on my hand.

"Nothing," I jerk my hand away from her and stare at the wall.

"Edward explain now. What did you do?" Dad crosses his arms.

Edwards POV

Is he fucking joking? Why does he always assume it's me. Anytime something happens he always gestures to me. Yeah I'm a big fuck up but I'm not the only one. It's usually always me but not today. It's Harry too.

"I didn't do anything!" I stand to my feet.

"Then what happened to Harrys hand?" he frowns waiting for an explanation.

"Are you not aware that Marcel isn't here?" I shout.

"Yeah dad," Harry stands, "no one ever worries about Marcel. He's the reason why you guys are here."

"What?" Dad paces back and forth.

"We were arguing and Marcel got really upset and ran back into the house. He said he didn't want to live anymore," Harry chokes on his words as he repeats what Marcel yelled at us.

"No," my mother cries, "my baby!"

"Mom stop," I grab her, "he's not dead." at least I think? Oh god I fucking hope not.

"He was cutting," Harry sighs.

"Cutting what?" my dad scoffs.

"His arms! He had a fucking blade and he was cutting his arms!" I shout at him.

"Why on earth would he do that?" he questions.

"Are you fucking clueless Desmond? He was trying to fucking kill himself!!" I scream.

"Lower your voice," he whispers.

"How are you so fucking calm about this. Your son could be dead and your standing here like nothing's fucking wrong!" I want to hit my own dad for acting like nothing's fucking wrong.

"That's because I can actually control myself. I am worried about my own son! Now sit down and behave for once!" he demands. Shit.

Harrys POV

It feels like I've been sitting here for ages. No doctor is coming out to tell us if Marcel's okay or not. I'm freaking out! I feel like I'm loosing my own mind. I want someone to come out and give us the news. Why is this taking so fucking long!

"Styles family?" my head shoots up immediately.

Edwards POV

"It's about god damned time!" I stand. My dad shoots me a glare but I ignore it.

"Is my son okay?" mother finally speaks after the countless hours waiting.

"He's fine," the doctor says. I feel relieved and I'm sure everyone else is too.

"He lost a lot of blood which caused him to blackout and faint. He was unconscious but he's regained consciousness now. He is a bit drowsy but I feel like you should give him a bit more time to process all of the medicine we gave him. We injected more blood into him by a donor who luckily was here and had Marcel's exact blood type," he says.

"Please I beg you can we go see him," Harry pleads.

"Yeah. Please," I beg. My parents look at us like were crazy but what they don't know is that were the cause for all this. I'm surprised they didn't ask what we argued about earlier today.

"Okay but please don't shout while your in there. He may panick and it could cause him to have a seizure ," he explains. My dad nudges both of us before we follow the doctor to Marcel's room.

Harrys POV

As we keep walking down the halls, turning left and right heading to Marcel's room, my heart seems to be pounding faster and faster. What am I going to say to him when we get in there. Of course I'm going to apologize to him, but I don't know what else I should say. I can't just say sorry and be done with it. He hates Edward and I right now and I'm certain a simple sorry wont make up for anything. Especially since we pretty much put him in this hospital. I feel like the worst brother on the planet.

"Be sure not to be too loud," the doctor who I assure his name is Dr. Davis as said on his name tag pinned on his crisp white coat. Edward and I nod and he steps away leaving us alone I front of Marcel's hospital room door.

"You go in first," Edward shoves me in front of him.

"I don't want to go first," I step behind him.

"Dammit," Edward pushes me back in front, "I'm older. Now go."

"By 5 minuets," I glare at him and slowly open the door.

"Still older," I hear him whisper.

I open the door and Marcel is in the laying on hospital bed staring out the window opposite to where we are standing. His glasses are on and his hair isn't perfectly combed straight to the side. Instead, it seems to be back to its natural curls like Ed's and mine. His eyes are swollen from crying I bet and his nose is a bright red. He's wearing the normal hospital attire of the plain light blue hospital dress. He has an IV needle injected on the top of his hand. His arms are covered with medical tape and bandages. From his wrist covering all his forearm, barley covering his elbow. Spots of red bleed through the bandages but not so much. He looks so weak and helpless. His face is so pale and his hands are slightly shaking.

"Marcel," I peak through the door before walking in.

"Go away," his lip begins to quiver. I step inside enough to allow Edward to come in. He closes the door and I begin walking closer.

"Look," I begin but he cuts me off.

"I know what you're going to say," he cries, "that you're sorry and this won't happen again."

That actually was what I was going to say.

"Save your breathe, I've heard it plenty of times," his eyes never leave the window view. I don't blame him for not wanting to look at us.

"Marcel were sorry. Not just because we intervened with you and Olivia but for everything we've ever done to you in the past. Ed and I feel like the biggest jerks on the planet," I look at Edward and he nods.

"Sorry twerp," Edward sighs, "I didn't think this would get out of hand."

"It was bound to come," he sarcastically laughs.

"Listen we're sorry," Edward is getting irritated, "I feel like a complete asshole okay. I didn't think you would actually go fucking try to kill yourself." Christ. I nudge Edward in his stomach and he grunts.

"It's not the first time," Marcel announces.

What.

"What do you mean it's not the first time? You mean you've tried to commit suicide before?" I hope he says no.

"No," thank god.

"Then," Edward pesters.

"I mean its not the first time I've cut my arms. I've been cutting for 2 years."

"I thought only girls did that shit?" Ed frowns.

Marcel's POV

I'm glad they are here but maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that fact that I've been cutting up and down my arms for almost 2 years now. I know they're going to ask me why, which is probably the most idiotic question. Especially coming from both of them who are partially the reason why I cut. No, they are the reason I do this. Mostly.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Harry sits on the chair beside the bed. Edward grabs a chair and sits next to Harry. I know I have to give an explanation but I'm too drowsy and lightheaded to explain anything.

"Are mom and dad here?" I try changing the subject.

"Yeah they're in the lobby," Edward picks at his nails, "but they won't let everyone come in."

"You didn't answer my question," Harry frowns.

"I don't think you want to hear my sob story," I frown back and look at Edward.

"No I'll actually listen," Edward sits up, "I want to know why the fuck you do this shit to yourself."

I sigh and prepare myself for this long story of why and how I have started cutting that it about to share with my brothers. The first time I ever shared this with anyone. And I can't believe out of everyone, they'll be the first to know.

Edwards POV

I'm not prepared for this at all. I'm actually pretty damn afraid. I can't believe he's been doing this shit for two years? And how haven't any of us noticed. Maybe it's because all he wears are long sleeve sweater vests. And maybe that's how he's been hiding it.

"Are you ready to tell us?" Harry literally wants to find out. He has no problem with listening. I don't either but I'm nervous for the outcome of all this.

"Okay. I started late January of 2011 the day Harry started dating Macey. Like I said, I used to like her and seeing you two together made me miserable. She made you happy and she would always come over. And that's when Edward was dating that one girl, Tia?"

I remember Tia. Tight Tia is what everyone called her. She had the body of a goddess and those breast.

Dammit Edward focus.

"Yeah Tia," I gulp.

"Yeah anyway you guys always brought your girlfriends home and left me hanging. Especially since Highschool started. We distanced ourselves." He sighs.

"So this basically all started when we were sophomores then," I add and Marcel nods.

"Yeah and you guys became popular and Ed joined a band. Harry joined football and I was never good at anything. You guys got girlfriends and I was the odd one out. Harry when you brought Macey home I was devastated because I told you I liked her. I'm sure you weren't listening when I said that because you were texting her. Ed you were out getting a tattoo and were always with your band and Tia. I got picked on at school and you two were never there to defend me. Ed you even bullied me. My escape was grabbing a blade and cutting my arms. I went out to the tree house so no one would see me. Even if our house was so massive, someone would surely walk into any room. Plus you guys always had parties and people would go into my room so I would escape to the backyard into the tree house and just cut. I felt like that's the only thing I could do to get rid of the mental pain inside and focus on the outside pain of a blade cutting in my skin," he cries and takes a breathe before continuing, "I hid them with sweater vest because they aren't so tight on my arms I grew accustomed to them, so I wore them all the time. I have scars that will never go away."

"I didn't think we were the cause for all of this," Harrys head ducks down.

"You were always the cause," Marcel cries, "you guys never cared about me. Yes you would defend me every once in a while but you never cared. All you cared about was popularity and girls. You two are embarrassed of me."

"We took you to Macey's party," I point out.

"Yeah and got me drunk which caused me to puke all over Olivia," he wipes his eyes.

"I'm sorry Marcel," Harrys crying. Fuck. I can feel a pool of tears forming in my eyes.

"I'm so sorry! I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. Believe me, I never expected this to happen," Harry cries louder.

"Me too," I half whisper, "I feel like such a fuck up. I didn't know I was hurting you this bad."

"Yore forgiven," Marcel says. What.

"So you're just going to forgive us like that?" Harry sniffs.

"Yeah. Nothing's going to change anyway. You two will forget about this whole thing anyway and we'll go back to the same routine. I know this experience isn't going to change any of your minds, and I know you two aren't going to stop trying to get Olivia. You two will never change," he says.

What.