Alone I Break pt.2
Title: Alone I Break
Chapter: 2 of 3
Author: misslola89
Pairings: George/Nina in passing, George/Mitchell implied
Rating: 15
Warning: Suicidal tendancies, may evolve into a death fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, all credits to BBC3
Summary: You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be.
Blood.
Blood staining the pristine white tiles, soaking into clothes.
Blood everywhere, dislodging something in George’s head.
A memory?
He felt rather than saw Mitchell move form his side to Nina’s. All he could see was the blood.
God, so much blood.
Some detached remnants of his logic told him that Mitchell shouldn’t be anywhere near here. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, to say anything.
And still that something, scratching to come in.
Mitchell’s voice sounded distant, though George was sure he was shouting and forced himself to focus.
“George, call an ambulance! George! George, listen to me, you have to call an ambulance NOW! She’s dying! …GEORGE!”
And that was it. The final piece of the puzzle and it all came flooding back.
He was stood in his tiny bathroom, in his tiny room above the café where he worked, resisting the tears that threatened to spill, as he turned the razor over and over in his hands. He had no money for pills or a gun and didn’t know how to make a noose so this was the only option left.
Looking up at the cracked mirror, he hated what he saw. Hated what he’d become. This…monster. He’d had everything, a beautiful fiancée, a promising career ahead of him, but now there was this. Now there was nothing.
He wondered how he should do this. Should he do it now and then sit? Or sit and then do it? Or should he lie down? Part of him wanted to laugh, realising how ridiculous this was. What did it matter if he was sitting, lying or stood on his head? The effect would still be the same. He’d read once that a lot of people who had done this were found in the bath, as the hot water helps to open up the veins and helps them bleed out quicker. So that was what he’d do.
Waiting for the bath to fill, George sat on the side, wondering who would find him (His landlord probably, it’s not like he had any friends who’d come around), what they would say (that it was really a surprise, he’d always been a bit weird) and whether anybody would contact his parents, who’d be surprised as they given him up for dead months ago. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t think about his religion. He didn’t want to think about what awaited him when it was all over. He knew, could quote the passage word for word, but couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was breaking the one rule he’d swore he’d never break. What did it matter now, one way or the other?
The bath was full, he could feel the heat radiating on to his face, something so insignificant before, now seemed important and worth appreciating.
Picking up the razor, and without removing his clothes (who wants to die naked?) George lowered himself into the steaming water. He sat for a few moments, pretending he was savouring his last moments alive instead of resisting the urge to back down.
Resolutely, he raised the trembling razor to his wrist, took a deep breath, and cut.
God, the pain!
A sob escaped him as he switched the razor to the other hand and taking a deeper breath than before, steeling himself against the pain he knew was coming, cut again. Dropping the razor over the side of the bath where it clattered on to the tiles, he let his arms fall and watched with morbid fascination as the blood, his blood, began to seep form his wrists into the water, staining it scarlet.
So this is what it felt like, taking back your life. For six months, his life had not been his own, had been ruled by this thing. For six months he’d had to deal with these soul-ripping transformations, with the loneliness of knowing what nobody else knew, and now with bloody vampires.
Vampires. As his vision began to blur, his thoughts drifted to their attack the previous night, of how they’d wanted to kill him for what he was. But not the other one, the one who’d saved him, helped him. What was it he’d said? That George had to leave, that they’d come back. Well he was leaving now, permanently, and he found a detached amusement at the thought of the others coming back and finding their work already done for them.
The darkness began to edge his vision now and he guessed the end was coming. The initial pain of the cuts had quietened to a dull throb now, releasing the last traces of his life.
He thought he could hear voices, as though from a long way off, calling his name, a warm hand on his cheek. But it was too late. The darkness was waiting.
He surrendered.
***
The darkness was all around him, a vast expanse of nothingness. No light, no sounds except a steady beat echoing in his ears.
But wait, there were other sounds too.
A beeping which grew louder the more George concentrated. Footsteps, far off voices and now a light, growing steadily brighter. Was this Heaven? If so, he wished somebody would stop that bloody beeping.
George’s eyes snapped open and what he saw wasn’t Heaven at all, but a painfully white hospital room. He blinked repeatedly, forcing his eyes to adjust, though his brain was having more trouble. What had happened? He was so close, the darkness had been there, what had gone wrong?
A movement beside him made him whip his head around and what he saw only added to his confusion. It was the vampire. The one who’d saved him. Sitting in the bedside chair, looking like he hadn’t slept in days with a look of worry on his face. He gave George a strained smile.
“Hey there. How’re you feeling?”
“Like I just tried to kill myself,” George said, wincing as his voice came out harsher than he’d intended. The smile fell from the vampire’s face.
“Right.”
An awkward silence fell, the silence of two strangers left alone together. George broke it.
“What are you doing here?”
“Talking to you,” the vampire replied with a smirk.
“But how did you know I was here?” George was already confused and could do without smart-arse answers.
“It was me that found you. Well, me and your landlord.” Seeing the puzzlement on George’s face, the other man began to explain, his voice matter-of-fact. “I came around to make sure you’d done what I’d told you and left. Told your landlord I was a friend and he said you were upstairs. But when I got no answer at your door, I asked if he had a key. We let ourselves in and well, that’s when we found you.”
The silence was contemplative this time, before the vampire spoke again, his voice gentler.
“What did you think you were doin’?”
George gave him a look and he rolled his eyes.
“Well I know what you were doing, but why?”
“Because my life is just one thing after another. I told you the other night, I’ve lost everything! There is nothing for me now but this. What kind of a life is that? I’m not like you, I could never learn to like and enjoy killing like that, I-“
“You think I enjoy killing? You think I like what I am?” The vampire’s eyes flashed. “I despise what I am and everything that goes with it. Why do you think I stopped them from attacking you the other night?”
“I thought it was to protect them?”
“No, George, that wasn’t it,” he said softly, looking at George, and the younger man lowered his eyes under the intensity of the gaze. After a few moments, the vampire stood up.
“I’m gonna go grab your things, I’ll let them know you’re awake on my way past.”
“Umm...Uhh…sorry...”George faltered as he realised he didn’t know the vampire’s name. The other man smiled sympathetically.
“Mitchell.”
“Right, Mitchell,” he remembered now. “What am I supposed to do now? You keep telling me I have to leave but where the hell do I go?”
“You can stay with me for now.”
“But won’t they be there?” George asked nervously.
“What do you think, we all live together in one big crypt?” Mitchell grinned. “Now, George, they won’t be there. And they won’t know you’re there either. You’ll be safe. I promise.”
He smiled again and left. George appreciated his few minutes alone. He couldn’t help thinking that the prospect of living with a vampire should terrify him, but instead he felt calm. For some reason he trusted Mitchell, he knew he’d keep him safe.
And for the first time since waking, George felt glad that he was alive.