Elliot wasn't one for fear.
Why would he be when everything that happened to him was usually under his control and things that weren't were easy to gain control of. Even as a child, his parents made it a priority to make sure that he learned how to be fearless. The instinctive human emotion was trained out of him by any means necessary, beatings included.
Elliot wasn't one for fear.
His mother had once locked him in the attic with no source of light. It had been his childhood fear, dark small places, and he had cried and screamed for the woman to come and get him. He had been in that attic for two days until he realized that begging the woman to come wouldn't work and he started to examine his surroundings. It was then when he realized that he could control the situation that he was in. He familiarized himself with the stuff up there, memorized the layout, and learned where the creaking came from in the middle of the night. He did this and by the time the woman came back to retrieve him, Elliot had no intention of actually leaving. It was quiet, there was no association with the assholes in his family and it had actually been therapeutic having time to himself. He had ended up loving it, moving his bedroom up there.
Elliot wasn't one for fear...
His father had given him a gun him one time, purposely withholding the fact that it was unloaded, and told Elliot to pull the trigger towards his own head. This had been in his teenage years he had learned not to show fear to his father. So he didn't as he took the gun, pointed it to his father's face and pulling the trigger.
"Why'd you do that Elliot?"
"Because it was idiotic of you to give me the gun while having no weapon of your own. There's no fear when faced with stupidity, just use the stupidity against them."
It was one of the handfuls of times that his father had laughed, grabbing the gun from out of his son's hands and walking away shaking his head.
Elliot wasn't one for fear...
And sure there had been slight worry when Cyan had gone to the hospital after he overdosed but was nothing compared to the deadening fear that overtook him at that moment.
Because the moment that he saw Cyan let go of the root...the moment he saw his head disappear underneath the water and the screams from the other two males reach his ears, the feeling was a blade to the chest. Sharp and quick. His vision blinded for a moment, his voice not even sounding like his own as he screamed the male's name and his movements working before his mind could register them.
Carter didn't even stop him as he headed for the lake and dived in. If anything, Carter was ready to follow after him but not being able to, his feet frozen to the ground.
"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mason repeated as he let go of the thick tree branch and went for his phone to call for help.
"He's going to get himself killed!" He yelled to Carter about Elliot, not seeing the male resurface. The water crashed against the shore, the wind whipping past him and the thunder still showing its wrath above them.
"He knows."
Mason ignored Carter's words as he paced the ground with his hands trembling around the phone. Seconds felt like hours as they ticked on with nothing happening and by the time that the 911 operator had gotten on the phone, Mason's throat felt as if it had closed.
This was his fault.
And yet if anyone were to ask either Elliot or Carter, they would've told him that it was their fault. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I need an ambulance," Mason started panicked, his hand in his hair and he placed faster. "Canadice Lake...30 minutes!??? I don't fucking have 30 minutes!"
"Elliot!" Carter suddenly yelled out as the man emerged from the water with a sharp breath and his hand instantly going for the branch.
He was empty-handed.
"He can't find him," Carter muttered, watching as Elliot caught his breath before going back under the water. "Fuck!" Carter wanted to punch something. He wanted to follow after Elliot in the lake. Most of all, however, the guilt of it all was eating him alive and if Cyan wasn't found... Carter barely heard as Mason angrily yelled at the 911 operator as he stepped closer to the lake.
"Carter don't!" Mason yelled after him as he hung the phone up pissed. "Elliot is already in danger being in there, not you too. We nee-"
"This is my fucking fault! I shouldn't have gone off on him!"
"You were just worried and you had every right to be. If he didn't kill himself then someone else would've." Mason looked past Carter to see Elliot come up once again empty-handed but going right back under immediately. He took a shaky breath. "He has a lot of problems. This was inevitable, not just because of you."
Carter gripped his hands into a fist. "I should have protected him better when we were younger."
"You can't possibly believe that was your fault Carter."
But Carter didn't reply. Instead, he had turned around just in time to see Elliot resurface, breathing hard and gripping into whatever he could to stay afloat.
And this time, Cyan was in his arm.
Limp and unmoving.
"Holy shit!" Mason yelled, rushing to throw something that Elliot could be pulled to shore with. "Help me!" He barked at Carter who seemed to be frozen in his steps. Quickly, Carter moved to help Mason pull Elliot out of the water.
"Cpr." Elliot coughed out as he dropped Cyan on the ground but Carter was already on it.
"The fastest ambulance can only be here half an hour," Mason informed Elliot who shook his head.
"He won't survive half an hour, he's not breathing. He was underwater for almost ten minutes, people rarely survive that."
"Don't fucking say that," Carter said through gritted teeth and he pushed harder onto Cyan's chest, only moving to allow for Elliot to give Cyan mouth to mouth.
"What do we do?"Mason asked, feeling helpless as time passed without revival.
"He has a half chance at survival so we'll keep it at least 50 while we wait," Elliot muttered as he stopped Carter to lean down and do mouth to mouth. Just as he went for a second time, Cyan finally coughed up water, choking until Elliot hurried and placed him on his side.
"Fuck, Cyan! Cyan can you hear me!?" Elliot pressed but not receiving an answer from the male. Instead, Cyan coughed and coughed, opening his eyes slightly to look at the three above him before lolling his eyes back and falling back unconscious.
"That's good right??" Carter exclaimed, asking Elliot who patted at Cyans cheek.
"He needs a hospital."
~
Cyan had a happy ending imagined. No pain. No emotion. No life. His happy ending was characterized by sinking in the void of unconsciousness to never see the light of day again. His happy ending was to rid himself of this fucked up world and kill off the burden that he seemed to be around the people he loved. His happy ending was was death but to any other person, that wasn't a happy ending. The ending of life was unknown and fucking terrifying and shouldn't have been placed on people's worst enemy. To any other person, to end his life without resuscitation was a horrible ending and would've been met with disappointment and indignation.
You should push on in life. Find happiness in life. That was the generally happy ending and yet why was it not a happy ending to find happiness in death?
"There's happiness in the ending of Romeo and Juliet," Cyan had once told Elliot as he had finished the Shakespearian book, resting on the man's chest.
"Happiness? Cyan, they both died because their parents couldn't accept them and get along. How is it a happy ending?"
Cyan closed the book and looked up at him. "Death is such a taboo subject that when it's mentioned in any type of story, everyone hates it. They think it's tragic and shouldn't happen but what if Romeo and Juliet are happier in death? What if they can be together in the afterlife without facing any type of consequence or ridicule? The unknown can be anything, even happiness."
"You wanna know what I think," Elliot asked.
"What?"
"You've been taking too many drugs."
And yet it had been the soberest things Cyan had said. He didn't want to come back after death. He didn't want to face the realities of the world with its corruptions and wars.
Cyan just wanted peace.
Quiet peace.
But it didn't matter what he wanted. It has never mattered.
Because that was just his life.
And that's why he survived his drowning.
"He's very lucky that the water was as cold as it was and CPR was administered as fast as it was or he wouldn't be here right now.
"What a bunch of selfish bastards." Cyan thought as he was floating in the middle of reality and unconsciousness. There was a machine beeping next to him, a needle that was stuck in his forearm and bothering him, and the sound of Carter's voice reached his ears as he spoke with the doctor.
"When will the medication wear off?"
God, he sounded bad. As if his throat had been ripped to shreds with razors.
"Anytime now. We want to keep him here a couple of days to monitor him. Surviving after drowning is more uncommon than people make it seem and there's always a chance of brain damage. Running the test, he seems fine but we would like to be cautious."
Footsteps could be heard walking away before something heavy depressed on the bed right next to Cyan. Warmth was suddenly given to him in this godforsaken cold hospital as Carter lie next to him and wrapped his arm over Cyan's chest.
And for a while it was just silence from the older male, his breathing steady even though Cyan could feel the small tremor in Carter's fingers as he tapped them against his body slightly.
There was something Carter wanted to say, the way he inhaled a breath to start a sentence but sighed and readjusted on the bed making it obvious. So badly did Cyan want to tell him to spit it out and yet he couldn't with the medicine. Though, as if Carter had read his mind, he finally spoke.
"I asked you..."
Cyan would've rolled his eyes if he could. Was that all? All that hesitation for such a vague sentence? What the hell was he talking about anyways, asked him what? He had asked him a shitload of questions throughout his life.
Carter adjusted on the bed uncomfortably and suddenly stopping the tapping of his fingers.
"If someone does something bad to you, should I tell? You asked me that Cyan and I asked- I fucking demanded you to tell me who the hell you were talking about."
What?
Wait...
No.
No, no, no, no, no...
Fuck.
"-and you lied to me...told me that it was apart of your dream but it wasn't was it?"
Stop talking.
"Did you think I would hate you? That I would be disgusted?"
Please stop fucking talking.
"Cyan its not your fault that bastard fucking touched you the way he did. "
"Stop."
Carter barely flinched at Cyan's voice as he spoke up, his anger holding back any type of relief that he felt at Cyan finally waking up.
Cyan opened his eyes slightly, closing them instantly at the bright lights above him and turning his head to Carter's chest.
"You should have told me Cyrus."
"And what?" Cyan's voice was hoarse, an ache present in it as he tried to clear his throat and talk again. "You loved them."
"Is he why you ran away."
Cyan remained silent.
"It wasn't that you were moving homes, it was all him wasn't it?" Carter sat up with narrowed eyes that weren't meant for Cyan. "God how could I have been so blind to the fact? In the next room too? And you acted as if everything was okay Cyrus! Why the hell-"
"Stop talking," Cyans interrupted in a whisper, holding his arm out for Carter. He could feel the tears beginning to cloud his eyesight at the fact that Carter had found out about everything. He was never supposed to know. He was never supposed to find out about the demeaning and pathetic situation that their father had put him in, embarrassment settling in his stomach at the fact that Carter had.
It was the nights where the father had decided to take a risk and fuck him while Carter was in the next room that Cyan would try a remain extra quiet, biting into the pillow to hold back the cries that threaten to slip out. It was those nights where he would take an hour-long shower and still not go and climb in Carter's bed for the fear that he would still smell of sex.
It was those nights where he needed Carter the most and yet the idea of him finding out kept Cyan away.
And now he knew. All that hard work to prevent it...
And he still found out.
"I-I had a nightmare." Cyan continued in a whisper, tears pathetically falling down his face as he kept his arm outreached for Carter. Carter knew what Cyan was
implying, his anger melting off as he went to go lie back down and wrap his arms back around Cyan. And Cyan quickly went to pull Carter in closer, burying his face in the hoodie that Carter wore.
"Talk to me Cyan, you've already destroyed yourself by holding this in for this long"
But Cyan didn't want to talk about it with Carter. Even though the other had found out, he didn't want to go in detail of what had happened, not wanting for Carter's image if the home he grew up in to be ruined. Yet it hurt keeping it in. It hurt keeping everything in.
"I'm going to ask you about it and I just want you to nod your head or shake it." Carter finally did, seeing that Cyan wouldn't talk. Cyan nodded.
"Did you run away because of him?" Carter started slowly. Cyan hesitated before he nodded.
"He was the only one that did that shit to you right..."
And again Cyan hesitated, for he didn't want to admit that it hadn't been the only time that he had been made into a victim. He didn't move his head. He didn't move anything and yet it seemed as if his silence had answered his question. Carter gripped onto Cyn tighter.
"Who was it?"
And Cyan didn't answer his question. Merely, he closed his eyes and whispered his next sentence. "Not a yes or no."
"Damnit Cyan, just answer my question."
"No."
"And why the hell not."
Cyan didn't respond.
"You're so fucking stubborn Cyan. Why do you insist on allowing yourself to sink deeper into your pain alone? Why do you insist on holding in all of this shit until you breakdown? It's like you're okay with finding relief in things that you shouldn't and slowly killing yourself mentally until it turns into a physical need. Why the fuck can't you tell me anything?"
And the way that Carter's voice cracked towards the end of his sentences made Cyan realized that Carter wasn't angry.
He was hurt and the fact made Cyan hurt. Because Carter was the strongest out of the two. He was the rock when Cyan felt as if he was breaking and he was the one to pick up the pieces after every nightmare that plagued Cyan. If Carter was hurting, then what was Cyan supposed to do?
"I don't fucking like this life that you've chosen, I don't like watching you kill yourself with drugs and I never want to fucking see you pull that shit that you pulled again. God Cyan you terrified me and if you would've died..."
"I know," Cyan whispered once again.
"I want to see you stop this."
"I know."
"I love you Cyan."
"I know."