(Link's POV)

I looked in the mirror.

Maybe I am just an obnoxious fourth grader. Maybe they're right.

(Outside POV)

He looked down at the items in front of him, tears streaming down his face. He had gathered them around the workspace, with only a few suspicious glances from his coworker, Rhett. He had never done anything like this before, but if there was ever a time for it, it would be now. He organized the items in front of him. The blade closest on the right, the spare close by, the framed picture of him and Rhett on the left, and a cross hanging on the sink next to him. He picked up the blade with trembling hands, carefully placing it on his wrist. He pushed down lightly to get a feel for how easy it cut, and was a bit surprised that the gentle nudge he gave it was enough to slice through a layer of skin. He cringed, not used to anything of this sort. He was full-on crying, his tears stinging the wound he had made. He took a deep breath, and made his first cut. It was deep, and he dropped the blade in shock. He audibly screamed, just loud enough for someone outside to hear but not think anything of. He clenched both fists together, and picked up the second blade. He was bleeding profusely and he couldn't see where he could make the next cut due to the sticky red liquid pouring out of his veins. He blindly cut himself again, but was more prepared than last time and only let out a small whimper. He continued this process until he felt lightheaded and the floor had a large pool of blood on it, swirling around Link's feet as the blood did not stop coming out of his arm. After about thirteen cuts, he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, his glasses nowhere to be seen, his eyes bloodshot, and then he noticed the bigger picture. His face was pure red, not from blood but from crying. Not once during his task did he stop crying, he only cried more when he felt the blade hit a large vein or artery. He stared at his offset image in the mirror, crying even harder and simply letting the blood flow freely from his arms.

If only he'd taken action sooner. Rhett was walking down the hallway, presumably to get some coffee from the kitchen. He heard a scream, but thought nothing of it. He was in L.A., this sort of thing was a normal occurrence. He got his coffee and started walking back down the hallway, only to stop as he passed by the bathroom. He heard crying, and a loud pitter-patter he didn't recognize. He was filled with dread as he remembered how distraught Link was. He remembered how unresponsive he was, how sad he looked, and the scream he heard earlier. He ran into the bathroom, dropping his mug on the ground. Walking in, he had his eyes on the floor. The first thing he noticed was the blood. Oh god, the blood. It was everywhere. He looked up in horror, the scene in front of him nearly bringing him to his knees. He started crying. He wanted to go forward and help his friend. He wanted to go comfort him, tell him everything was going to be okay. Tell him he was there for him. Tell him... But there would be no telling him anything. Everything happened in an instant, and as soon as he walked in Link took notice. Link was furious, but at the same time in dire need of help. His big puppy dog eyes full of angst, he turned slowly towards his friend and took a shaky step forward. He would have continued, but there was so much blood. So much blood. The room was spinning, no, he was spinning. His mind reeled, and his barely functioning body fell limp on the floor.

Rhett was on his knees in an instant. He was crying too hard to see the cuts on his beloved friend's arms, which were too bloody to see anyway. All he knew was that Link had done something horrible and now his life was in danger. Taking Link into his arms, he cradled him. He searched his face for consciousness, but saw nothing but agony and sorrow. Link's pathetic state made him furious. Furious that he couldn't help in any way, furious that he didn't stop him. He yelled to Jason working in the next room.

(Rhett's POV)

"JASON, CALL 911! LINK IS DYING! FOR FUCKS SAKE, CALL 911!"

(Outside POV)

He was furious and agonized and full of sorrow all at the same time. He clung to Link, afraid and unable to let go. His friend looked so small, so helpless. With Link on his lap and blood pouring everywhere, Rhett did what came naturally. He rocked back and forth with Link in his arms, whispering reassuring words to Link and himself through sobs. He didn't even notice the paramedics rush in, the blood blotting out any color their clothes previously had, and being shoved to the side to make room for the stretcher. Everything was a daze. Suddenly, reality hit him like a cold wave. He knew that Link needed him, and that he needed Link. Pushing his darkest thoughts to the back of his mind, he rushed over to the ambulance they were loading Link into. He looked so frail on the stretcher, so weak and in need of help. He shouldered his way in, ignoring the protests from the medics. He stood next to his life-long friend, praying he would live. He couldn't imagine life without him. He started crying again, the tears running down his face and onto Link's hand, which he was holding tightly. He stood over him in silence, with the exception of the medics yelling cryptic phrases to each other. He was completely oblivious to everything, he was in his own world with a Charles Lincoln Neal the Third bleeding to death in front of him. As the ambulance arrived and they took Link out, he followed Link's stretcher into a secluded room. He sat down as close as he could, given the medics were still rushing about in a frenzy. In a time frame of what felt like days, they were gone. He picked up his chair and sat it down not even an inch away from his best friend. He put his head on Link's chest, which was now rising and falling slowly. He cried for hours, until the moment of truth.

Link woke up.

Link's eyes opened slowly, and the first thing he noticed was the searing pain in his arms. As he fully awoke, he noticed a teary-eyed Rhett James McLaughlin practically on top of him. Rhett, noticing he was awake, embraced him in the biggest and gentlest hug he could muster up. There was so much relief, sorrow, and love in that moment that neither of them could speak. Rhett gently stroked the scars forming on Link's arms and both of them cringed. Not from pain, but from sorrow and regret. There was an unspoken truth between them. Rhett had finally come to terms that he needed his friend just as much as his friend needed him. That he couldn't bear not having Link around, and Link realized that he was worth something. That he mattered. That he was not an obnoxious fourth grader. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain, to tell Rhett that he was sorry...

But there would be no telling him anything.

He already knew.