Hey everyone! this was requested by Aifosa_ a couple of months ago, and I never got to it, which I am sorry for. Hopefully you all can enjoy it!
tw for attempted suicide, mentions of scars and self harm, suicidal thoughts and actions. If any of these make you uncomfortable in any way, please do not read!
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"Guys I am so, so sorry. I didn't want to hurt any of you, and I did, and I'm sorry. I don't have any excuses. You didn't deserve what I did to you all."
A broken and screaming and weeping boy with blood on his hands, scars on his wrists, gel in his hair and sorry on his lips. It was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.
What a fucking joke.
"No. We don't forgive you. You are not forgiven, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Leave."
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He didn't know what he wanted.
---
Dead of night, pitch black, cold as all hell despite it being California. Alone.
As always.
No one gave the bleeding boy a second glance, with gel in his hair, cuts on his wrists, tears down his face, and cries on his lips.
Eventually he reached where even the street light lamps don't reach. They aren't this far out, on a cliff face over the roiling ocean.
Trees casted enormous shadows over the boy and the cliff and the bugs.
The cliff was inanimate and bold and unmoving - it didn't care about the shadow.
The bugs acknowledged the shadow as another beautiful part of life, the darkness in front of the light, the darkness that is malleable and changeable. They simply observed and moved on.
The boy thought the shadow over his face to be a cruel metaphor. Even at his lowest, he is not allowed the dark sunlight of the moon.
The shadow didn't know any of this. It was temporary, a blip in a moment, and so it was simply unfeeling. A watcher, not a participant. It didn't stay to see what would occur, with this broken boy, the cliff, the ocean, and the bugs.
Silently, Hawk sat to rest, his feet dangling off the edge. He watched the ocean, roiling and deep and full of secrets. He imagined maybe seeing the ancient city of R'lyeh rise out of the Pacific way off in the distant, Cthulhu rising, devouring everything in his path, Hawk included. A few fleeting moments of terror, before being devoured by a beast he was incapable of understanding? Maybe not the best way to die.
Hawk found himself wondering if perhaps the ocean would embrace him, should he fall. If maybe once the meat was gone from his bones, if schools of fish would find home in his remains.
He snorted. That would be the only possible way for him to be of any use.
No, an embrace is too merciful. For the sins he has committed? Nothing short of torment would suffice.
And yet...
Hawk found himself listing forward.
His father was out of this picture. His mother wasn't home often enough to know whether or not he was dead. No siblings to speak of. Every friend he'd had was gone. They would not forgive him. So why, really. Why should he continue this life?
Perhaps he would be reincarnated. Maybe he would get a second chance.
Not that he deserves it. If anything, he goes straight to whatever hell awaits him, whatever devil is left to claim his soul once released from his body.
A sigh.
And he falls.
And then simply...
Nothing.
---
Emptiness and darkness and cold and wet turned into too light, too warm, too soft, too full. Absence turned into too much and the not-drowned boy wanted to scream.
A woman gently touched his shoulder, waking him from one agony to one of opening his eyes.
Her touch was so soft, so gentle that the boy wanted to scream he didn't deserve it he was a monster he was unforgiven he didn't deserve anything this precious
"Hey, breathe, okay? Just in and out, settle your heart." She breathed with him, a steady anchor until he wasn't close to passing out.
"You were found washed up on the beach, and we brought you here. There are going to be some questions, just so we can help you the way you need it, but that's going to wait. For now, enjoy some Jello," the woman explained, polite, straight to the point, patient, and gentle. Hawk deserved none of it.
Blankly, he realized there were white bandages wrapped around his wrists and forearms. A sob ripped its way out of Hawk's throat, rearing its ugly head.
He was alone, but cared for? It didn't make sense. He was a monster who hurt people, how could anyone care about him?
He couldn't even care about himself.
---
A day later, Hawk was under suicide watch and wrapped in a pair of grey sweats and a grey hoodie, neither with drawstrings. The neon green grippy socks were his favorite.
3 days after his admission, Hawk was allowed to move around more. He'd sufficiently recovered from his near-death, though they still were practically shoveling food down his throat. Turns out he'd been severely malnourished, and they still had him on an IV here and there.
He became good friends with the nurse from the first time he woke up here.
Hawk was, surprisingly, starting to like it. He was warm, he was fed, he was comfortable and comforted, and he was liked, and he liked people here.
On the 5th day, Nurse Freya, as Hawk had named her, told him there was someone asking to see him. Since he was still under suicide watch, and because he was a patient at all, he had complete control over who from outside the hospital could see him.
He didn't know what they wanted. He let in his guest, meeting them dressed in his sweats and socks, criss crossed on the bed, hands in his lap, hair an absolute mess.
"Hawk," Demetri spoke as way of greeting. Hawk wanted to die a little bit then. (He always wanted to die a little bit, but that's besides the point.)
"Demetri, what do you need?" Hawk questioned, cold and wishing he was unfeeling.
"To apologize. I- we never thought you were going to do something like that to yourself. I-If we'd known, we never would've said any of that-" Demetri started, but Hawk put up a hand, silently interrupting.
"Don't say that. I made my choice. You spoke how you felt, and that is exactly what any relationship with anyone needs. It's not your fault, don't apologize," Hawk explained quietly.
'I'm sorry," Demetri said again, unhearing.
"Stop it Demetri. It's not your fault."
"I still feel guilty."
"I know.
"Now leave, please. This situation isn't safe for me anymore," Hawk requested, nearly scared. Demetri's head fell, and he walked out the door.
Nurse Freya walked in, and she hugged Hawk closely.
"I am proud of you, Hawk. We will help you, I promise." Hawk nods. The nurse leaves, and Hawk goes to sleep.
From that point on, Hawk refuses any visitors. He focuses on healing, on improving himself. He focuses on the looks of pride in Nurse Freya's eyes, on the noticeable improvement in his thought process. On how they've trusted him more and more. How they let him visit other patients in the same ward, making friends.
---
One month and two weeks after that first day, Hawk is released from the hospital. He buys some food, heads home, turns on the heater (it is January, after all), puts on a movie, and curls up with some pizza and soda.
His phone rings.
It's Demetri.
"Hawk. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Can we meet up, talk about it"
No, his mind tells him.
"Not yet," he tells Demetri.
He hangs up, sets his phone down, ignoring the text messages, resumes the movie. With a smile, he bites into the best pizza he's tasted in a very, very long time.
(Maybe he's not the monster anymore.)
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Hey guys! So I hope you all enjoyed it! feel free to leave votes, comments, and/or requests, but no pressure whatsoever to do so!
love you! (drink water. this is not an option.)
-ghosted