Actual title (because ff(dot)net doesn't like long titles I guess): "Can I Be the Only Hope For You? Because You're the Only Hope For Me."
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the troll Ryan Murphy. Lyrics belong to the band Brand New. Also the title is lyrics that belong to My Chemical Romance.
A/N: I've been having this recurring dream about Tate and Violet so I finally decided to write it down. This is my first fanfic, and it's just a crappy little one-shot, but reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Trigger warning: Rated M for self-harm. I was kind of triggered while writing it, and I don't want anyone else to be, so yeah, just a warning. Also, I don't know if Tate is Rubberman or even a ghost in this fic or if it even matters. This is just about how much he cares for Violet and wants to keep her safe.
"If I could I would shrink myself, sink through your skin to your blood cells, remove whatever makes you hurt but I am too weak to be your cure."
Violet stands in front of the mirror with her eyes closed, holding her breath as she brings the razor down across her skin. She gasps slightly as she opens her eyes and looks down at her fresh new cuts. "They're beautiful," she thinks. Her eyes shoot up to her reflection in the mirror. "Unlike me."
She staggers backwards, lightheaded and dizzy, and slides down against the bathroom wall. She closes her eyes again and tries to think of nothing but her ragged breathing and the comforting sting in her wrists. Suddenly she feels a presence in the room, but she doesn't have to open her eyes to know who it is. She keeps them closed and tries to pretend she's still alone.
Tate makes his way over to Violet slowly, not wanting to startle or upset her. He kneels down in front of her and gently takes her wrist in both of his hands, examining the damage and trying to form words over the lump in his throat that forms when he looks at her fresh cuts. "Why, Violet?" he whispers, his voice breaking on her name. She doesn't open her eyes or answer him. She's perfectly still, the small rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she's even still alive. He sighs and moves to sit next to her against the wall so their shoulders are touching.
Minutes that feel like hours pass in silence, until finally Tate breaks it. "Vi, what are you thinking?"
Time passes again and he almost thinks she won't answer, but finally she does, still with her eyes closed. Her voice holds no emotion at all and it breaks his heart.
"I'm thinking about what would have happened if I pressed the blade down ever harder."
He turns to face her, taking her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "Vi, look at me. Please."
Reluctantly she opens her eyes. "What, Tate?" she practically spits the words at him. "What could you possibly say right now?"
"I love you," he says, and she can tell he means it. "I would never let anyone or anything hurt you. Even yourself. Just tell me what to do. Tell me how to make your pain go away."
"You can't. No one can."
"I can try," he says as he brushes her hair back from her face. A single tear had escaped Violet's eye and he brushes that away, too. "Can't you let me try?" He leans in and kisses her neck, her cheek, and then, gently, her lips. He pulls back and looks into her eyes, those eyes he could spend all day getting lost in. Those eyes that hold a lifetime's worth of pain and he can't figure out why.
She stands up so suddenly that Tate has to catch himself from falling forward. "Vi -" he says as she starts making her way towards the door.
"Just go away, Tate. Leave me alone."
And then she walks out without another word, leaving him staring after her.
Violet lays in bed, thinking. She doesn't know why she told Tate to go away. She wants to let him in, but she can't. She's never cared for or been cared for by someone like this before and she's afraid of what will happen when he finally realizes how stupid and naive she really is and leaves. She wouldn't be able to handle it. She drifts off into a restless sleep with the taste of his name on her lips.
Tate couldn't help it. He couldn't stay away. He tried, but all he could think about was his Violet, alone and hurting. He couldn't stand to see her that way. He finds Violet curled up in her bed. "I'm not going anywhere," he says from her doorway. "I want to be here for you. It's as simple as that." She doesn't answer. He's not sure if she's asleep or not, but he continues anyway. "You're my only hope, Violet. Why can't you let me be yours?" He moves over to the edge of her bed. Her back is to him but he knows she's awake. He waits for her answer. He'd wait as long as it took.
"Can you just… hold me for a while?" she whispers, so softly he almost thinks he imagined it. He exhales slowly, not realizing he had been holding his breath until now. He climbs into the bed behind her and pulls her close to him, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling her heartbeat, slow and steady, against him. She falls asleep like that in his arms, safe and sound. He stays awake holding her for hours, trying to imagine his life without his Violet, but he can't. "If I don't have you, I don't have anyone," Tate whispers into the dark. He decided in that moment that for the rest of Violet's life, he would be her guardian angel.
"Please use my body while I sleep.
My lungs are fresh and yours to keep,
kept clean and they will let you breathe."