Take It Out On Me [Malum AU]

Chapter 19

Dedication: iHaveAThingForBands0. I have no idea how I'm going to make you not hate either of them. I have the story planned out, but I thought of some new stuff, and I have an idea of what I'm going to do, but even I am mind fucked (it's a word in the urban dictionary, look it up) from this fanfic.

The update is short, but I don't know how to make it any longer. It would have been updated sooner, but I was working on another book. At least you're getting a sort of-ish double update.

Calum's fluffy hair may be the death of us all.

Michael didn't bother calling out for Calum, because he knew the boy wouldn't answer him. Besides, Michael already had an idea of where he would be.

The pale boy rushed over to Calum's bathroom and opened it, thankful that the door was unlocked. The sight in front of him made him whimper, and Calum looked at him with wide eyes.

Calum was sitting against the wall, his long legs in front of him. He was wearing only boxers, and, at any other time, it would look sexy, or funny, but definitely not now. His wrists and thighs were cut, rivets of blood dripping down his skin and on to the ground. His wrists didn't look that bad, but his thighs... his thighs had straight cuts, and then diagonal cuts on top of those, and more cuts on top of those. They looked deep, too.

"Oh, God," Michael said, the sight bringing back horrific memories. "Oh, my God."

"M-Michael," Calum said, his voice shaking. "What are you d-doing here?"

"I just wanted to get away from my mum for a bit." Michael couldn't stand to look at Calum, but, he did anyway. He felt like vomiting, because memory after memory were resurfacing.

"Come here Michael, now!"

"I-It hurts."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine."

"Make sure to wear long sleeves."

"It's hot outside. Can I wear short sleeves?"

"This is what you get, Michael. You deserve this."

"God, I don't know if I should help you, scold you, or be pissed at you."

Calum lets out an empty laugh. "You be pissed at me?! I'm not the one who's had a boyfriend this whole time."

"I told you I was sorry!" Michael slowly stepped into the bathroom and sat against the wall across from him, his knees to his chest.

"Sorry doesn't make it better."

Michael couldn't feel more shitty than he did in that moment. "Why the fuck would you do this to yourself when you know that my dad used to do it to me?"

"Not everything is about you, Michael," Calum snapped. His fingers were shaking really badly, and Michael wasn't aware he was still holding his razor until he dropped it to the ground. "This started long before I knew about what happened to you, and once I found out, I couldn't just stop. It's an addiction, Michael, and you don't just stop." He shakily stood, and Michael quickly stood and tried to help him do whatever he was doing.

"Stop," Calum said, batting Michael's hands away. "I do this often enough, I can do it on my own." There were a box of tissues on the sink, and he grabbed them before sitting back down. He took one out of the container and folded it twice, then gently started to dab at his right thigh.

Michael grabbed a tissue and folded it like Calum had, then gently started to dab at his other thigh.

"I can do it myself," Calum said, trying to push Michael away.