fяα¢кιиg zσмвιєѕ : Z Nation One-Shots/Imagines : 10K

Scars ~ 10K/Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts and depression.

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"I'll take first watch," You muttered, kicking the dirt under your boots and shoving your hands in to your hoodie pockets.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)? You've taken watch for the past few nights now." Addy, tried to put a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off easily, going towards the front door to the house.

"S'fine." You muttered.

The bags under your eyes were deeper and darker, being unable to sleep for the past three nights. You didn't even feel drowsy, you just felt empty.

You sat outside the house on the front porch steps, resting your arms on your knees and staring out in to the distance. It was deathly silent outside, the only noise coming from inside the house. You could hear Murphy complaining about the sleeping arrangements and simply rolled your eyes.

You pulled a small baggy out of your hoodie pocket and opened it delicately, pulling a few tablets from within it. You took them at the same time, so used to taking them you didn't require water to wash them down. You threw your head back slightly, allowing them to travel down your throat. You continued to sit there in silence, waiting for them to take effect.

You pulled your hoodie sleeve up slightly to look at the array of scars that littered your forearm. Some of them fresh, others were darker and more defined, having bumped up over time. You scratched at some of the fresher ones, trying to get the wounds to open back up again, the Oxy masking the pain, but you watched as blood began to seep from the wounds. You fingered the knife that was sheathed at your waist, pulling it out. The blade shone under the moonlight as you held it in your shaking hands. You wondered whether you had the nerve to plunge it in to your chest or you would allow yourself to bleed out.

You heard someone open the door from behind you and jumped, the knife clashing to the floor noisily as you tried to keep calm. You tried to pull down your hoodie sleeve without covering it in blood. You were lucky it was a dark colour and the stains wouldn't show up. You looked back to see who had disturbed you and came face to face with 10K.

"(Y/N), what are you doing?" 10K whispered, fear evident on his features.

This is what you dreaded, letting people in led to things like this. It lead to people looking down at you, pitying you.

"Nothing." You muttered, tugging at your sleeves slightly, shoving your hands in to your pockets. 10K had definitely seen the scars though, but he didn't make a big deal out of it.

10K sat down beside you wordlessly and stared out in to the distance beside you. You shuffled nervously beside him, your hands mindlessly playing with the Oxy tablets still in your pocket.

"I don't fit in here," You muttered quietly, still looking ahead.

"Why?" 10K questioned you.

"No one really cares. We're just surviving. There's no point anymore. Citizen Z hasn't made contact in months, operation bitemark is just full of shit. No one would care if I wasn't here."

"I would." 10K whispered.

"What?"

"I would care if you weren't here."

You hadn't expected to hear those words come from 10K's lips, your body began to shake involuntarily, the corners of your eyes had tears building within them. 10K's arms circled your shaking frame, cradling your body. You felt tears streaming down your face that you couldn't hold back. You weren't sure whether it was the effects of the drugs or the months of pent up frustration. You fisted 10K's shirt as you buried your face in it, the tears soaking it.

"I'll always be here for you, (Y/N)." 10K's arms clung to your small frame and just held you, "I can't lose you."

10K knew you didn't want to talk about it now and he wasn't judging you. He didn't mention the knife, didn't mention your scars. You knew he would be there when you were ready to talk and he would listen.