J/C Fic - "Alone" - *read the warnings*
Title: Alone
Rating: M (for sensitive nature)
Word Count: 560
Warnings: mentions of (graphic) self-harm and depression!
Pairing: Jared/Chris
Summary: There were times when the darkness curled around him so tight and the feeling that he was all alone in the world would suffocate him. There were times when he just needed a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone.
A/N: Written real quick late at night, so any mistakes are my own!
He gets restless sometimes. Lying in bed, the darkness pressing in upon him, with only his thoughts to keep him company. A strange feeling will wash over him and he wishes that he could pick up the phone that lies not even inches away from him and call for help, for a distraction, but he doesn’t. Instead he reaches further out, to where there is a hidden blade and turns the sharp object in his fingers over and over again, knowing how wrong it is to want this, to need it, and yet he is still unable to stop himself.
The first slice through his skin feels like something’s been unlocked within him, he feels released and he’s hesitant to admit, even to himself, how wonderful the feeling really is. He draws a line all the way down his inner forearm, then another next to it and another once more. The crimson blood slowly wells up and stains his slightly tanned skin, clotting and drying over older scars before he digs the blade through the same lines once again. Watching as more blood arises.
Distantly he knows this is wrong, that he should be calling for help, for a distraction or something, anything. But he can’t make himself do it, he just draws another line down his arm instead. He hasn’t felt this way for a while, it could have been at least a month since the last time the feelings of loneliness and isolation last washed over him this severely, but he had Chris then to distract him.
His phone’s chirping pulls him out of his downward spiralling thoughts. The blade falls from his fingers and he looks at his phone, beeping innocently, the screen displaying Chris’ name.
Love you.
The message was simple, only those two words, black against the white background. But it was all he needed. He grabbed his phone in one hand and discarded the blade with his other before making his way over to the bathroom to clean his wounds. He long since learnt how to ensure that minimal scarring would occur. Sitting under the bright lights of the bathroom, feeling completely exposed and only a little bit stupid, Jared replied to the message.
Thank you, love you too.
He didn’t have to write anything else. Chris knew about his tendencies, he had figured it out for himself with one look at the old scars, and now, every night they were apart, Chris would send Jared a message reminding the younger man that he was not alone. Chris would hold on to the hope that his message wouldn’t arrive too late, and most of the time, Jared received it with the blade still clean in his hands. But there were nights like tonight where their timing was off and the small blade would already be stained.
Jared returned to his bed, alone and clutching at his phone, the message still open on the screen for Jared to look at over and over again. When Chris returns home, he will look Jared over, he will see the fresh marks and know what happened, know that he failed Jared again, but by the end of the night, they will be lying in bed together, Chris keeping the darkness at bay and holding him through the night, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
End.
Let me know what you thought of it? :)
Rating: M (for sensitive nature)
Word Count: 560
Warnings: mentions of (graphic) self-harm and depression!
Pairing: Jared/Chris
Summary: There were times when the darkness curled around him so tight and the feeling that he was all alone in the world would suffocate him. There were times when he just needed a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone.
A/N: Written real quick late at night, so any mistakes are my own!
He gets restless sometimes. Lying in bed, the darkness pressing in upon him, with only his thoughts to keep him company. A strange feeling will wash over him and he wishes that he could pick up the phone that lies not even inches away from him and call for help, for a distraction, but he doesn’t. Instead he reaches further out, to where there is a hidden blade and turns the sharp object in his fingers over and over again, knowing how wrong it is to want this, to need it, and yet he is still unable to stop himself.
The first slice through his skin feels like something’s been unlocked within him, he feels released and he’s hesitant to admit, even to himself, how wonderful the feeling really is. He draws a line all the way down his inner forearm, then another next to it and another once more. The crimson blood slowly wells up and stains his slightly tanned skin, clotting and drying over older scars before he digs the blade through the same lines once again. Watching as more blood arises.
Distantly he knows this is wrong, that he should be calling for help, for a distraction or something, anything. But he can’t make himself do it, he just draws another line down his arm instead. He hasn’t felt this way for a while, it could have been at least a month since the last time the feelings of loneliness and isolation last washed over him this severely, but he had Chris then to distract him.
His phone’s chirping pulls him out of his downward spiralling thoughts. The blade falls from his fingers and he looks at his phone, beeping innocently, the screen displaying Chris’ name.
Love you.
The message was simple, only those two words, black against the white background. But it was all he needed. He grabbed his phone in one hand and discarded the blade with his other before making his way over to the bathroom to clean his wounds. He long since learnt how to ensure that minimal scarring would occur. Sitting under the bright lights of the bathroom, feeling completely exposed and only a little bit stupid, Jared replied to the message.
Thank you, love you too.
He didn’t have to write anything else. Chris knew about his tendencies, he had figured it out for himself with one look at the old scars, and now, every night they were apart, Chris would send Jared a message reminding the younger man that he was not alone. Chris would hold on to the hope that his message wouldn’t arrive too late, and most of the time, Jared received it with the blade still clean in his hands. But there were nights like tonight where their timing was off and the small blade would already be stained.
Jared returned to his bed, alone and clutching at his phone, the message still open on the screen for Jared to look at over and over again. When Chris returns home, he will look Jared over, he will see the fresh marks and know what happened, know that he failed Jared again, but by the end of the night, they will be lying in bed together, Chris keeping the darkness at bay and holding him through the night, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
End.
Let me know what you thought of it? :)