the darkness inside us ; multiship

ten

trigger warnings - anxiety, drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, depression, self-harm, and anorexia

"Mom?"

Jordan holds up a finger, continuing to type rapidly on her phone. Alex shifts his weight to his right foot and shoves his hands in his pockets, squirming uncomfortably.

"Sorry about that." Jordan slips her phone into her pocket and looks up at him. "What's up, babe?"

"Can-Can my friend Rian come over?" Alex asks hesitantly. "Just for a couple hours, he won't be here long, I promise, I just-"

"Whoa! Breathe, kid," Jordan says, smiling at him. "Of course that's fine! You don't have to ask, just make sure you know when your sessions with Lucas are so he's not here during those. The kids here have people over all the time. Zack's like an honorary member of the family at this point."

"You guys are really okay with all this?" It's so weird to him. A complete open door policy for kids with pasts they're not completely sure of? Unheard of. He expected so many more rules and a ton of restrictions, but the freedom has actually been so fucking refreshing.

"Mama talked to you, right?" He nods. "We know what it's like, to have depression and anxiety and self-harm and wish your life was over. And there are a lot of things that make mental illness easier to cope with, things mama and I didn't have as kids. We wanted to give you guys what we didn't have. We wanted to be parents we wished we had. We can't change the fact that you guys are all mentally ill, but we can make things easier and we'll do anything in our power to make that happen."

Alex leans forward and hugs her quickly. He's still not completely comfortable with the cheek-kissing and stuff he's seen other kids do, but he's getting there. He's not used to the affection. It's something he's never had, and never wanted. He didn't know it was a normal thing until he got here so it's taking him time to get used to it.

"Go on, text your friend," Jordan urges him. "And tell him he can stay for dinner if he wants. It's taco night."

...

"Vic? Can we talk?"

Vic's hand stops mid-strum. He looks up, heart starting to race. "Uh yeah, sure. What's up?"

Kellin sits next to him, and Vic notes how he doesn't try and scoot as far away as possible. It's a good sign. Maybe Kellin doesn't completely hate his guts after all.

"Listen, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and...I just don't get why you didn't talk to me," Kellin says. "Like, when we were dating. Why didn't you tell me you were getting bad again? I could've helped you..."

Vic sighs, setting his guitar down against the couch. "I don't know, honestly. It was a really long time ago. I think I was ashamed. I was embarrassed that you could get better and I couldn't. You were strong enough and I wasn't. And I guess I just...didn't want to get in the way of your own recovery? You were working hard enough to get better, you didn't need to take on helping me get better too."

"Vic, you know I wouldn't have-"

Vic smiles sadly. "You would've, Kells. It's what I love and hate about you. You'd do anything to help the people you love, even if it means sacrificing your own health. And you didn't deserve to do that. Not for me."

Kellin blows out a frustrated breath. "Why? Why don't you think you deserve someone giving a shit about you?"

"Because I didn't want to live, Kells," Vic confesses. "I...you did drugs to let go. Be less anxious, live a little, right?" Kellin nods. "I wanted to destroy myself. I needed to get out of my head and I didn't care what it took. I didn't care if I had to stick my arms with needles because I'd already cut them up worse. I didn't care that being high wasn't always fun. It got me out of my head and that was enough. I wanted to die, Kells. I was so suicidal when we were together. I didn't...I couldn't put that on you..."