by TT Kove
Matt was clearly depressed. That was enough. I just hoped he wouldn’t ever take it further as I had all those years ago… Like I’d done more recently than that. Several times.
‘Josh, come here.’ Damian motioned me to come to him and I did. He scooted back on the bed, arms wrapping around me and bringing me down on the mattress with him. We wrestled a bit to get into proper positions, but then we were both on our sides, his front pressed against my back, his arm tight around my middle. ‘I love you so much. You know that right?’
‘Yeah.’ I put my hand over his, over the one that was around my waist. His skin was warm. The feel of him pressed against me was something I would never tire of.
‘I don’t blame you for anything and I don’t think badly of you, because you’re struggling and you have good reason to. You’ve experienced something that no one should’ve had to go through. You came through it alive and for that, you’re one of the strongest people I know.’ His breath was warm on my neck as he spoke. ‘But I don’t want Matt to struggle with the same things you do. Not that he’s experienced anything as horrible as what you have, but he’s depressed and he’s cutting. I don’t want him to self-harm, Josh. I don’t want him to feel ashamed of showing his arms like you are. I don’t want him to always struggle with the need to cut when something goes wrong.’
‘I understand.’ I did. I understood better than he’d ever know. ‘I don’t want that for him either.’ But cutting was a life-line… at least for me. I had cut to die, but mostly I cut to live. Because it helped.
‘He needs therapy.’
‘I know.’ I turned my head so our cheeks aligned. We both had stubble, but it was still so good to feel his skin against mine. ‘We’ll give him the night to calm down and process what’s happened today. And tomorrow… I’ll talk to him again tomorrow.’
‘I’m taking him to the hospital tomorrow once visiting hours start, so he can see Caesar.’
‘Good.’ If he could see that his boyfriend was okay, maybe he’d feel better too. ‘That’s good.’ And hopefully, it would put things into a better perspective for him.
Chapter 2
‘Matt!’
Damian came storming inside the flat, right over to Matt’s door.
‘He’s not here.’ I peeked over the back of the sofa, where I’d been stretched out with my laptop on my thighs.
‘Where is he then?’ Damian swirled to face me, his usually stony face worried.
My heart started beating quicker.
‘He’s supposed to be with you at the hospital.’ Obviously, he wasn’t anymore, considering Damian was here.
‘He left.’ Damian ran a hand through his hair. ‘He took one look at Caesar and then he just ran away.’
He came over to my side of the sofa and I lifted my legs up so he could sit down. When I put them back down over his lap, he gripped my ankles tightly.
‘Ever since he woke up at the hospital last night, he’s been on me about seeing Caesar. Why would he leave when he finally had the chance?’
‘I don’t know.’ My head spun with what he’d told me. Matt had been sullen at breakfast, not eating the cereal he himself had poured.
‘What’s going on?’
Matilda’s demand had both Damian and me turning around in surprise. Neither of us had heard her approach, but now she stood there, right in the middle between the kitchen and the sofa.
‘Matt was a mess this morning, and you two went off to God knows where.’ She pointed at Damian. ‘And now you come home and start banging on his door? He just left with you! Tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong with Matt?’
Her eyes swirled with worry and I felt bad for not having told her anything yesterday. She and Matt might get on each other’s nerves, but they were siblings—twins even—and they cared about each other.
Damian dragged a hand over his face. ‘Matt’s friend Caesar had a severe epileptic seizure yesterday.’
‘So? He’s always had seizures.’
I stared at her. ‘You knew he was epileptic?’
‘Well, yeah.’ She stared back like it was obvious. Then she blinked, eyes going back to Damian. ‘What do you mean severe?’
‘As in his heart stopped.’
That struck her, judging from the stunned expression on her face. ‘I didn’t know that could happen.’ She bit down nervously on her lower lip. ‘Back in college, the first year… He went to our college, you know, though I don’t think Matt knows. But then Matt didn’t exactly make much out of himself at college. But back then, first-year—Caesar was in his second—when he had seizures, people used to talk about it. Laugh about it.’
I felt cold all over. ‘It’s not funny.’ It definitely wasn’t funny. My own school years hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park, what with being a victim of sexual abuse and all. I’d never had any friends at school, but I’d never heard anyone talk about me or laugh about me either—though I was certain they had when I wasn’t around.
‘I never said it was.’ Matilda’s voice was soft now, almost regretful. ‘I’ve never been around the bloke. I don’t know him. I just used to see him around—and hear about the seizures. Alistair used to be mates with him, though I don’t know why they’re not anymore.’
I didn’t know who Alistair was, but it wasn’t like that was of any importance right now.
‘Matilda, Matt didn’t know about the epilepsy.’ Damian spoke up again. ‘And he didn’t take it well when the seizures wouldn’t stop, when the machine beeped that Caesar’s heart was in trouble. They had to shock him to start it again.’
Oh god. Poor Matt, no wonder he’d been such a mess last night.
‘Why wouldn’t Caesar tell him? He should’ve told him.’ Matilda fiddled with the end of her braid, which hung heavy over her shoulder. ‘What if Matt had been alone with him when it happened?’ She paled. ‘Was he alone with him when it happened?’
‘No.’ Damian shook his head.
Matilda’s gaze flickered in indecision over what to ask next. ‘So… where’d you go earlier?’
‘To the hospital. Matt wanted to see Caesar.’
‘Is he doing worse?’ She took a step closer, nervous now. ‘Did something happen?’
‘I don’t know.’ It pained Damian to admit that, that he didn’t understand what exactly had happened. ‘Matt took one look at him, back-pedalled, and ran out.’
‘So now he’s… gone?’ She was alarmed.
I was afraid she had good reason to be.
‘Yeah.’ Damian glanced at me.
‘How was he yesterday? When Caesar…’ She searched for the right word, but couldn’t seem to find it. ‘How was Matt? You said he didn’t take it well.’
Damian pressed his fingers to his temple.
‘Matilda, he had to sedate him.’ I put my hand on Damian’s back, stroking him.
Matilda’s eyes widened. ‘What? You sedated him?’
‘I had to,’ Damian replied. ‘He couldn’t calm down. He was hysterical. Screaming and kicking.’
Matilda covered her mouth with her hands, shocked and disturbed by the happenings of the day before.
Damian tipped backwards, resting his head against the back of the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. ‘Now what am I supposed to do?’
‘There’s nothing anyone can do.’ Now I knew what it must’ve felt like for Mum whenever I went AWOL back when I’d used to live with her. Back when I’d met Damian. It wasn’t a good feeling. ‘We live in London. It’s impossible to find him.’
‘Unless he went to Adam?’ Matilda suggested. ‘If Caesar’s in hospital, then there’s only Adam left. He doesn’t know anyone else. If he doesn’t want to come home, maybe he went there?’
Damian turned his head a fraction. ‘Would you ask him, please?’
Matilda nodded and hurried back into our room, which was where she was set up with her laptop most days—presumably to get her phone.
I took advantage of her leaving and leant into Damian, resti
ng my head on his shoulder. ‘Maybe it was just too much for him. Maybe he just needs some time. He’ll come home. He has to.’ If he didn’t come home, then where would he go? It didn’t bear thinking about.
He sighed but didn’t say anything. So we sat like that until Matilda finally came back out of her room.
‘Adam hasn’t heard from him.’
Damn.
‘I guess we just have to wait then.’ Damian was still staring at the ceiling.
‘He’ll come home. He has to.’ Matilda didn’t sound as sure about it as her words would suggest though.
‘He will.’ I didn’t believe my own words. I wanted to believe them, but I couldn’t.
Who knew what was going through Matt’s head right now? He’d gone off to see his boyfriend, which I’d expected to make him feel better, only for him to disappear without even talking to the lad. That didn’t make any sense.
‘You should go back to what you were doing, Matilda,’ Damian said. ‘I’ll call you if we hear something or if he comes home.’
She nodded, slow, thoughtful, but she did retreat into our bedroom. She didn’t close the door completely though. I heard the desk chair creak a bit as she sat down heavily, then the tapping of keys.
‘I’m worried, Josh.’
‘Yeah.’ He had every right to be. I was worried too. Not that that said much in and of itself, considering that was practically my usual state of mind.
‘We should’ve spoken to him this morning before I took him to the hospital.’
‘We’ll talk to him when he comes home.’ He definitely had to see it now, how therapy would be good for him. Running away from the bloke he’d been anxious to see, that he’d been so hysterical over that he’d had to be sedated when said bloke was in danger of dying, and now running away from him without speaking to him… Surely he must see that he needed help? That he couldn’t deal with everything on his own?
Damian turned the television on. I wasn’t sure if he was actually watching or not, but I certainly wasn’t. I was worried about Matt, about where he was and what he was going through.
Matilda padded back out sometime later. ‘I just got a text from Adam. Matt came around, but he left again.’
That didn’t help any. Unless he came home now.
‘We’ll just have to wait and see if he shows up here then.’ How long would it take Matt to get from Adam’s place to here? I wasn’t sure where Adam even lived, now he didn’t live with Leslie and Spencer anymore.
Matt didn’t come home.
The time dragged by.
Then Damian’s phone let out a shrill ring. He fumbled it out of his pocket, seemingly surprised himself, and answered it. I didn’t hear what the person on the other end said, but I noticed how his whole body tensed up.
Oh no, what now?
‘I’ll come down. As soon as possible. Yeah, thanks.’ He hung up, then just sat staring down at the now black screen.
‘What is it?’ I sat up, alarmed. ‘Damian?’
‘Matt’s at A&E. He cut himself so deep he had to get stitches.’ His gaze cut to me and I wasn’t sure if I imagined the accusation in them. ‘And he fainted from blood loss.’
Oh, god. My mind whirled. I hadn’t lost consciousness from cutting for eight years—the first and only time had been when I’d cut to kill myself. Had Matt—? No. He can’t have. His boyfriend was fine! Why would he cut so deep?
‘Come on.’ He stood and looked expectantly at me.
‘You want me to come with you?’ Why would he want me anywhere near Matt?
‘We’re a family, Josh. We do everything together.’ He grabbed my shoulders, bending down so we were on eye-level. ‘Of course you’re coming with me. This isn’t your fault.’
So maybe he hadn’t been accusing me. ‘What about Matilda?’
Damian glanced towards our bedroom door. ‘I’ll go tell her. It’s her choice if she wants to come with or not. You get ready to leave.’
I watched him knock on the not-quite-closed door and head inside. What would Matilda think when she found out about Matt’s cutting? About it being so bad he was now in the hospital? Would she accuse me of being a bad influence?
What would Claire say when she found out? I was the only one in our circle of family and friends who cut, after all. Where else would Matt have got the idea from?
Once we left Matt curled up on his bed and shut his bedroom door after us, I wrapped my arms around Damian’s waist and held him tight.
He stiffened for a brief second, then put his own arms around my shoulders.
‘I’m so sorry.’ My breath hitched. ‘Now I know what it’s like to be on the other end of a situation like this. It sucks.’
‘It does,’ he agreed quietly.
My heart ached for him. He’d suffered so much—and for the last five years, he’d also had to deal with me and my mess. Couldn’t I, who loved him more than anything, give him some peace and quiet? Couldn’t I make him stop worrying for a little bit? But no… Because I was me, because of my borderline, I was always cause for worry.
‘Stop thinking, Josh.’ He squeezed me tight. ‘Just stop.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ I mumbled against his shoulder. ‘It’s not easy to do. I’m always thinking.’ My brain was on constant overdrive.
Damian’s cheek slid against my temple. ‘He’s agreed to therapy. That’s progress.’
‘Yeah.’ I could only hope he wouldn’t need as many years in therapy as I’d had. I was still in therapy, with no end in sight. ‘Should we ring Claire and tell her?’
She was off on her honeymoon, after a rather quick marriage at the registry office, to a bloke we hardly knew.
Damian shook his head. ‘Matt’s eighteen. If he doesn’t want her to know, we shouldn’t tell her. You know they don’t get along.’
‘Maybe they would if she knew—’ I couldn’t help but compare them to me and my mum. Once I told Mum everything, she’d been there for me. We’d grown so close.
‘Matt and Claire aren’t you and Angelina,’ he said sadly like he could read my mind. Maybe he could. After five years together, no one knew me as well as Damian did.
‘It’s sad. How it’s turned out, I mean.’ I closed my eyes, breathed in the scent of his cologne. ‘They were so close before, but then Ray died and everything changed. Matt’s living with us, Claire’s off with some guy we hardly know, they never see each other. If it weren’t for Matilda, I don’t think they would’ve had any contact at all.’
Ray’s death had changed Claire. She’d been so happy before, such a good mother. In one tragic day, it had all turned tits up. After the worst of the grief had gone, things had started to go downhill between her and Matt. Matilda too, to a certain degree, but she still lived at home, at least. She was only with us now because Claire was gone for a month.
‘Some people grow closer after a tragedy, like you and your mum.’ Damian’s voice was low, soft. ‘Others pull away. Fall out.’ He’d never been close-close to Ray or Claire, he hadn’t been that to anyone save Silver and me, but he’d loved them. They’d loved him. Yet now… he wasn’t anywhere near as close to Claire as he had been two years ago. Far from it.
‘I’m glad we’re still close.’ I drew back so I could look up at him, so I could cup my palm around his cheek. ‘I’m glad we only grow closer. I don’t want us to ever pull away or fall out.’
‘We won’t.’ He gazed sombrely at me.
‘I’m afraid we will.’ And that it would be my fault. ‘You weren’t happy with me earlier.’
‘It wasn’t you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I was frustrated and afraid. I didn’t know what to do. Still don’t quite know what to do about Matt.’
I kissed him, a quick, brief, chaste kiss. ‘I’m so lucky to have you.’ I didn’t even dare think about what my life would’ve been like if I hadn’t met him. ‘I hope Matt will have someone too. That he’ll have Caesar. He seemed like a nice lad.’
‘Matt cares about him.’ Damian put his
forehead against mine. ‘Like, really cares.’
‘I hope they’ll make up.’ I stared into his blue eyes.
‘I’m sure they will.’ Damian managed a small, tight smile. ‘He just has to get what happened at a distance. Calm down.’
I hugged him tight again. Distance, yes, that helps. I always felt better after my bad periods, but sometimes it took a while. And I felt good for a while. Until I tumbled back down the spiral again. But Matt wasn’t anything like me. I sure hope he isn’t. Poor lad, if he was anything at all like me. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Well, on Andrew maybe—but then again, I wished him dead. That he’d died instead of Ray. But life wasn’t fair. It never was. Andrew lived, while Ray had died. He’d not just ruined me, but he’d ruined what had been left of Damian’s family.
He’d ruined me for life. I couldn’t ever come back from it. And I wasn’t sure if anyone else could ever come back from it either, after what had happened. Least of all Matt.
Chapter 3
Matt’s arms… It wouldn’t be long until they were a replica of my own. He’d cut himself deep and he had the sutures to show for it. Once those were gone, he’d have the scars. That was all me, how I’d been back before. How I still turned sometimes because I could never stop. I could never cope.
His arms… they were nothing at all like how they’d been two years ago. I’d caught Matt with a knife. He’d been lying on his bed, back in his parents’ house, tapping it against his skin. I hadn’t seen any blood, just faint, faint traces of white—or so I imagined anyway. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not. But one thing I did know was that his arms had looked nothing like they were now.
It’s all your fault. It’s all my fault. It had to be, right? Because I was the only other one around who struggled with self-harm and here Matt was, with arms resembling mine.
I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were wide, dull almost. My skin was pale. My hair… it seemed dead. Well, technically, it was, wasn’t it? But there was no shine to it, no fall… it just hung flat against my head, not flattering at all.
