Trigger: Self-harm
Rating: T
Also, if you're highly religious, religion is sort of a theme in this, so it's up to you if you read it c:
A/N: I'm not really sure how I feel about this one; I wrote it from experience, but I know people have different reasons for self harming, so I hope this doesn't sound completely ridiculous. If you find anything that I can improve on, let me know c: Thanks again to my friends Mika, Alice (prettyblainers) and Kay, and to my girlfriend Lauren for checking it over. Also, thanks to batcurtandcaptainriker, I don't know if you even remember looking at this for me, it was a while ago! Oh, and thanks to everyone who reviewed my last fic, it mean a lot!
So yeah, I hope you like it c:
Jeff never even heard the door open.
He never heard the light steps of Nick walking across the hardwood floor.
But he did hear the cry of anguish from the foot of the bed.
Jeff quickly dropped the razor blade to the floor and attempted to cover his slashed wrist with his other arm. However, he had no such luck as he had chosen to wear his white Hollister hoodie to dance rehearsals, meaning that the blood was seeping through the fabric.
"Jeff, what are you doing?" Nick was still standing from where he had cried out, at the bottom of Jeff's bed. The calculus papers he had been carrying had crashed to the floor, now laying in a disorganised pile.
Jeff knew there was no point in trying to hide his arm, the blood, or the razor blade, but he still tried. It was natural now. When there was no reply, Nick cautiously padded over to where Jeff was perched on the side of the bed, taking care to avoid the small, scarlet puddle that was slowly spreading out by Jeff's feet.
"Jeff, you've started cutting again, haven't you?" Jeff stayed silent, but carefully removed his hoodie to reveal the deep lashes in his tanned skin, stained red from the droplets of blood. Nick drew his hands up to his face, and then settled on the bed. He carefully took Jeff's hand, and rested his arm across his lap. "We need to get this cleaned up, Jeffy. What did you use?" Jeff was still in too much shock to answer, so he pointed at the razor blade laying on the floor. He hadn't cut for months. He'd really been trying, ever since Nick found out. But he'd just got off the phone with his dad, yet another argument about Nick, about how their relationship was unnatural, and against God's will.
He had felt it, that familiar need to just cut, to see the blood. Being able to see the pain, to make it physical and not mental is what made it so... beneficial wasn't the right word. Helpful, therapeutic? They didn't seem quite right either. Jeff was pulled back to reality by a warm, wet sponge being gently dabbed across his wrist. Nick must have fetched it from the bathroom while he was zoned out. Closing his eyes, Jeff whimpered when the sponge pulled a little skin.
"I'm sorry, baby. I know this is painful, but that razor is old, the cuts are going to get infected if we leave it," Nick's voice was soothing and calm, his right hand rubbing small circles on Jeff's back. Jeff wondered how he was managing to stay so calm, Nick normally hated the sight of blood.
Nick finished washing out the wounds, and got up in search of bandage dressings. He disappeared into the bathroom once more, then reappeared a minute later with the first-aid box tucked under his arm. Jeff could tell that he'd splashed his face with water as a few droplets were clinging to his hairline. He'd also rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie, trying to make himself feel more relaxed; Jeff knew all of Nick's habits by now. Nick sat back down on the bed. The two were making no conversation now; the simple act of Nick caring for Jeff was enough.
Opening the first-aid box, Nick retrieved disinfectant wipes, a bandage and a safety-pin, and placed them on his lap. Wordlessly, Jeff held his arm out to Nick, and he watched as Nick wiped the slashes with the disinfectant. It amazed Jeff how Nick still continued to stay with him, to be so loyal. He knew that he would do exactly the same thing for Nick without hesitation if, God forbid, it ever came to it, but it still surprised him how somebody could love him back. Jeff had been brought up in an unloving, god-fearing home, so the things that mattered in life, love, friendship, kindness; those things had been difficult to come by. Nick wrapped the pale bandage around Jeff's wrist, the pair still in complete silence. He finished covering the wounds with the bandage, and held it together with the safety-pin.
Nick finally looked up at Jeff's face, into the dark brown eyes that were looking back at him. Nick broke the silence, by clearing his throat a little. Neither of them knew what to say.
"What happened, Jeffy? You were doing so well..." Nick trailed off, not wanting to make Jeff feel guilty about what he'd done. Eventually, Jeff spoke.
"I don't know... I just... I got off the phone with my father about an hour or so before you came in and he was being... he was being him again." Nick nodded, knowing all about Henry Sterling's view on their relationship, and on his son. "Something... it just snapped, Nicky. I don't know how to explain it. I felt that if I could see the pain he's caused us... then maybe I'd be able to understand it better. I always feel like I'm not enough for him, not enough for anyone," Jeff saw Nick open his mouth to protest, but interrupted him before the words left his mouth. "I know you'll disagree, you're going to say how I'm enough for you, and that my father is stupid and doesn't know what's good for him, but you have to understand Nicky. That's the way I was brought up, to think that I don't matter unless I'm this perfect image that 'God' wants me to be. That's what my father always said anyway; I have to be right or he won't allow me into heaven."
Jeff saw the disapproving look from Nick, and he remembered that Nick was an Atheist. "I know you're an Atheist, Nick, and trust me, I'm not a great believer at the moment. But I always thought how nice it'd be if there was something there at the end of life to reward us, and having that man telling me how I'll never make it anywhere in this world or the next... it just got me so frustrated, and this was the only way I could think of letting it out. It wasn't easy though, Nicky. I fought with myself, I didn't want to do it, I promise."
Nick sighed, before taking Jeff into a warm, much-needed hug.
"Jeff, you're right; I am going to tell you how amazing you are, and how much of a dick your dad is. However, I want you to realise that this is a lot more than that. This isn't about how you were brought up; this is about what you believe. You think that you're not good enough, and that nobody likes you. Don't look at me like that, because it's true. Don't think I didn't see the look of surprise when Wes asked you to teach the guys your new dance moves, and don't think I don't remember afterwards when you asked me if you think Wes only asked you so he could to make fun of you and your 'terrible' dance. And also, you know that you always have a home here at Dalton, that all the guys accept, and more importantly, love who you are. You know that I love you, more than you could ever imagine, and you're welcome to come and stay with me for... forever as far as I'm concerned. Living in that house with that family is doing your self-esteem no good. You need to start believing less of that shit your dad tells you, and you need to start believing in yourself." Nick watched as the tears finally fell from Jeff's eyes, and he knew he'd hit got this right.
Nick pulled Jeff into another hug, but this time he ended it with a soft kiss to Jeff's lips. He could taste the salt from his tears, so he wiped Jeff's cheek with his thumb to get rid of them. He tilted his head back but moved his hand down so he cupped Jeff's face.
"Thank you, Nicky. I love you too," Jeff mumbled against Nick's lips.
"I know you do, baby." After a while, they cleaned up the small puddle of blood on the floor and discarded the razor blade. Then, they settled back down on Jeff's bed, pulling the soft covers over them for warmth. Nick laid behind Jeff, cuddling him tightly, his face tucked into the small of the other boy's neck. They stayed like that, whispering comforting words and promises to each other, into the night.