"I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes
So go on baby hurt me tonight"
* * *
BRIDGET GALLAGHER
Aiden flinched. He literally flinched away from me. He couldn't get away fast enough. I let him have his space and cleaned up the mess in the foyer until I heard what sounded like earthquake from only his room.
After my knocks were met with no answer, I walked through the unlocked door. His nightstand was knocked over on its side. My feet followed the sound of running water in the bathroom. The shower, bath, and the sink were all on as if he was trying to cover something up. Shards of something broken poked at my soles as I stepped onto the cold marble floor of the bathroom. In front of me was a shattered mirror. I shut of the sink and shower. The stop of the water cleared my ears of the noise, pulling my attention to Aiden, who was sat on the edge of the bathtub.
His temple still bled from earlier. He probably needed his injuries checked out by a doctor, but I knew he wouldn't agree to that. A fresh line of cherry on his already bruised knuckles confirmed he had punched the mirror.
"Why did you... what happened?" I asked.
"I need you to go. I need a minute." He said through his teeth as he suppressed the chemical reaction threatening to combust at any moment.
"I'm not leaving you alone like this." I replied softly.
Tiptoeing around the debris of his outburst, I stepped closer to him and reached for his hand. I could continue to be angry at him later.
"Then, I'll leave." He snatched his hand away. He stood up to leave the bathroom, but I stepped in front of him.
"Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."
"Why? You aren't my girlfriend, right now. You shouldn't want anything to do with me. I did terrible things to you and your family." He seethed looking down at me with a dark demeanour.
"Why?! Because I... because I care about you! That doesn't go away because I'm mad or hurt." I snapped.
Fidgeting of his fingers gave away his forced anger as he loomed over me, "I swear to god, Bee, if you don't leave—"
"You will what? Glare at me to death? I'm not afraid of you." I scoffed.
This wasn't entirely true. Seeing him nearly beat Kai halfway to death scared me to the core. The cracking of his fist breaking his nose made me sick. However, I wasn't afraid of him hurting me. I was afraid of the violence and what else he was capable of that I had yet to see.
I walked passed him to sit on the bed. He was trying so hard to push me away. I probably should have let him. He wanted to scare me into leaving him alone, but no matter how angry he got, I knew he wouldn't hurt me. After witnessing Kai in action today, it was clear how much he didn't allow him to feel all this time. He's been swallowing every emotion he's experienced since they met. Now, it was bursting through the seams he had sewn so tightly for much too long. I wasn't going to leave him to deal with all of this alone when it was so clear he didn't know how to handle it.
"Bridget—" he stopped. His face fell pale as he retreated to the bathroom.
Heaving for air with the force of someone vomiting on their hands and knees, his trembling hands frantically gripped his own neck before punching the mirror again, shattering an unbroken area. He clawed at his throat again desperately gasping for the oxygen that his brain didn't believe was there.
My brain pieced together the night he slept walk to the beach and described the panic attacks he used to have. Alternative methods is what he said he used to cope. It was clear now those methods were destruction.
"I don't want you to see me this way. I need you to leave." He said out of breath as I led him out of the field of broken glass back to the bedroom, where he finally collapsed to his knees in front of the bed.
"Let me help you, please." As I leaned forward to wrap my arms around him, he buried his head in my knees.
"I would never judge you. You can trust me." I pleaded softly. Adding to the broken pieces on the floor, the angry barrier I was faced with shattered. He couldn't fight it any longer.
"You don't understand. I can't... even if I want to. I can't let you..."
"I don't know how to properly explain it. My ears start to ring. My throat tightens up, and it's like I can't breathe. I just physically can't." The words from that night played in my head. He didn't know how to hurt when he wasn't alone.
"Yes, you can, and you need to. This isn't good for you."
"Let me be alone. Bridget, please." His voice began to resemble what I imagined the strain of a stretched rubber band to sound like. I didn't understand why he felt he needed to hide from me.
"You know I'm not leaving. You can shout at me all you want and be angry, but me leaving isn't going to happen." I said. He stopped fighting me.
My hand massaged his shoulders to soothe him. His chest took in slowing, laboured breaths, rising and falling against my legs.
"You can cry, Aiden. It's okay." I whispered and kissed his head.
Saying his name felt so odd now. I couldn't call him Jacob anymore, but I wasn't used to calling him Aiden either. The uncertainty of not even knowing what name to call him reminded me how angry I still was. For now though, I had to push down all conflicting thoughts swirling around my head. That fight could wait.
"The bullet was for me." It was so quiet that I nearly missed it.
"This isn't your fault. You didn't make this happen." I slid off the bed onto my knees so I could hold more of him. Unsure if that would help or make it worse, I started off slow until he leaned closer as a single, choked sob cracked through his lips.
"That shouldn't be her blood. It should be mine."
"Look at me, please." I lightly pulled on his wrists.
I have seen him angry, upset, and today, I saw him violent. But I had never seen him lose control this way. He let me move his hands away from his face. Sixteen years of unacknowledged pain pooled along his waterlines.
He brought his palms to eyes to hide it, embarrassed of himself. This foreign state of vulnerability was uncomfortable to him. The contrast from earlier gave me whiplash. Hours ago, he was dangerous, but now, the danger in him dissolved completely. I moved closer. I could feel his heart rate increasing with every breath.
All of the poisonous "training" caged his thoughts like criminals in his prison of a mind. As he sucked in one last sharp breath, the distress in his eyes pleaded for saving of some sort.
"Everything will be okay." I whispered.
It was a simple phrase that has been said millions times, but I don't think anyone has ever told him that before. Whether or not I was right, he needed to hear it. He replied so quietly that I couldn't make put what he said.
He wired his eyes closed to stop crying. My forehead leaned against the side of his head while my fingers traced the veins in his hands until he calmed down.
"Thank you for not listening to me. I didn't mean it. I don't you to leave." He hummed into my neck as he met the end of his panic.
"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere." I promised as I pressed my lips to his damp forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Better...I'm sorry. I haven't...um... this hasn't happened to me on a really long time. I didn't think it would... I'm sorry." He said, feeling uncomfortable in the aftermath.
"Don't apologise. Contrary to what your mentor has told you, emotions aren't something to be embarrassed of. You need to feel sometimes, even the bad things."
The whites of his eyes were pink from the flood that broke passed the gates he's kept locked all this time. He pulled away, examining the mess of blood on my shirt from his hand and forehead.
"C'mon, let's get the mirror out of your knuckles." I smiled, knowing how much he didn't want to continue the conversation. Relief melted the pained look on his face, making me chuckle.
"What?" He asked, standing up.
"Pulling glass out of your bloody hand is more appealing to you than telling me how you feel." I laughed.
My observation was met with his rolling eyes. We used the guest room since the master bathroom was a disaster. He sat up onto the granite countertop while I searched for clean tweezers and a first aid kit.
"Wait," he said, glancing at the antiseptic wipes I pulled out, "you don't need that."
"The wound will get infected if I don't use it." I explained.
"Watches Grey's Anatomy twice through, and suddenly, you're a doctor." He muttered before giving me his hand. "Just do it."
He fixated on my every movement. As the pain of the Kai inflicted injuries set in, his unsteady breaths warmed my skin. The yelp he let out as the antiseptic grazed the raw lacerations robbed the soul from my body.
"Jesus! Aiden, stay still." I gasped in startle after he snatched his hand away.
"That fucking hurt." He said through his gritting teeth.
"It wouldn't hurt as much if you would let me take you to the emergency room."
"No, no hospitals." He said firmly. Another thing I still didn't understand about him. For someone who's been injured as often as he has, he hated hospitals and doctors. It started to seem like a fear of his.
"What about my family's private physician? He could come here and stitch you up without you stepping foot in a hospital." I proposed.
"No, he will go straight to your father to tell him anything he sees." He objected. "Just keep going. I'll stay as still as I can."
I nodded as he nervously placed his hand back in mine. This time, I moved faster to shorten the duration. His clenching jaw protruded the veins in his neck. As I dabbed along his knuckles, strangled groans from the sting vibrated his chest.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I repeated while I frantically disinfected the lacerations. It didn't help that the punches he threw today left his whole hand bruised and sensitive. "Okay, that part is done."
His eyelids fluttered open. The pain was so bad that it produced tears, evident on his damp eyelashes. Thinking the hard part was over, I picked up the tweezers to start removing the shards. The initial contact alone had him near passing out.
"Aiden, this is ridiculous. I have access to a doctor who can numb you and do this right. He isn't employed by my family. Please, let me call him. I can't keep hurting you." I pleaded, biting back my tears. "You can trust him. I have known him since before he was even a doctor. He won't tell my dad anything. I know that for sure."
"Fine, make the call." He muttered. "How do you know him?"
"We run in the same circles." I said, not giving any other details. I just needed him to agree to let me get help.
Before he could ask anymore questions, I stepped into the other room to call. He promised to show up within the hour. I helped Aiden get downstairs to the couch just in time for the doorbell.
"Thank you so much for doing this, Dean." I said, leading him inside.
"I'd do anything for you. You know that." He said, carrying hims bags of supplies with him. The comment pulled Aiden's attention.
"I'm Dr. Forbes, but call me Dean." He introduced himself.
"Jacob. Nice to meet you. I would shake your hand but..." he chuckled and held up his injured hand.
"How did this happen?"
"I'm clumsy." Aiden smirked, not bothering to make the lie believable.
Without asking anything further, Dean began examining the trauma covering his body. He started with Aiden's forehead. I hadn't realised how much pain he was in earlier until he didn't wince as Dean injected a numbing agent into his temple. The one time I experienced that I nearly cried. I didn't even want to imagine how bad the pain in his hand was to produce that reaction. Now, the only sound he made was one barely audible hiss as Dean removed the glass from the wound.
"How do you and Bridget know each other?" Aiden asked as Dean began stitching his hand.
"We dated for two years." He answered casually, keeping his focus on the wound. Aiden bit the inside of his cheek and glanced over Dean's shoulder at me.
Shit.
"So, you're not the private family physician she told me about?" He asked.
"No, definitely not," he chuckled as he tied the last stitch, "I'm a trauma surgeon. My schedule wouldn't allow for that."
Aiden stayed quiet as Dean finished up. Luckily, he didn't think anything was broken, but he said to call if he feels any shortness of breath or clamminess. He gave him some painkillers and antibiotics in case of an infection. As I walked him out, I exhaled in relief before returning to Aiden, thankful the worst of the day was over.
"Want to explain why you didn't tell me the doctor you convinced me to see is your ex?" He asked with a crease between his eyebrows.
"You needed help. If I told you, you would have never let me call him." I said honestly as I sat next to him.
Everything that happened today overwhelmed me to the point of extreme exhaustion weighting down on me. I didn't know if I was on the verge of crying or collapsing, but I did know that I didn't have the energy to fight about this.
"What's wrong?" He asked, coming closer. The mere question broke me.
"You can't expect me to just watch you hurt and not do anything." My voice cracked. Crying it is, then.
"What are you talking about?"
"You told me to watch from the car while Kai beat you half to death. Then, you ran off to go punch a fucking mirror and didn't let me call for help until you were almost in tears from how badly it hurt." I snapped as frustration and exhaustion coursed down my face.
The density of the air thickened with internal conflict. Ignoring how confusing this was, I let him pull me onto his lap with my knees on each side. I didn't care that we were technically broken up or that there were a million lies I was still furious about. I just needed him. His hands cupped my face as his thumbs wiped away the tears.
"I am so sorry for what you saw earlier. I want to promise it will never happen again, but it probably will." He said.
"It's not what I saw. It's you. You have to start accepting help, or you will get yourself killed. If you feel a panic attack starting, come to me. You can't just destroy things. When you're hurt like you were today, you go to a doctor. You have to take care of yourself. If something happened to you..." I sniffled as his hands intertwined around my back.
"I have had much worse injuries than today. I'm okay. Nothing is going to happen to me." He whispered as I nuzzled into his neck.
The warmth of his arms soothed the stampede of turmoil inside me. I welcomed his peppermint breath on my shoulder. It didn't matter that he was the pathology behind the ache of betrayal pulsing through my vessels. Aiden was my medicine as much as he was the disease.
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hope you enjoyed it!
what do think about how bridget is handling everything? should she have cut aiden off entirely?
please don't forget to vote!!