I do not own any of the characters in this story.
Also, if you are sensitive to mental illness or mentions of abuse, please do not read.
Observing the vicious marks that decorate James's frail skin, makes Teddy feel nauseous. Staring at his own bloodied knuckles begins to turn Teddy's vision grey around the edges. Reality blurs around the both of them and Teddy is grateful for it. He can't stand to see James's shaking, crying form lying in the corner of their room.
What has he done, exactly? How has he managed to hurt the only living, breathing entity that has always been there to support him and love him in all of his misgivings?
Teddy can't breathe. Teddy can't begin to control the level of rage he feels welling up in the pit of his belly. The rage is directed at himself this time, instead of . . .
"James?" Teddy asks, quietly. There is no answer, but Teddy hears the unmistakable sound of sniffling and whimpering which can only mean that James was . . .
"You're crying," Teddy accuses, "you're crying because of me." Teddy's vision begins to clear as the sounds of crying become more prominent. His gaze focuses in on James, but he isn't able to see his face, only the shaking hands that cover it. Teddy abandons his sitting position on their bed and walks carefully to the corner of the room and kneels in front of the trembling form. He reaches for those hands, to remove them, but he needn't try. The moment Teddy's fingers graze James's skin, his hands fly away to reveal harsh tear tracks and puffy, red eyes that so vividly show their fear.
"James. James, I-I…" Teddy trails off. How does somebody apologize for hitting their boyfriend? Their fiancé.
"Don't," says James, his voice desperate, "don't apologize to me."
"I am the scum of the earth. Really, I am. I just couldn't. . . I couldn't stop it. I saw you, talking with Alice, and everything went this brilliant shade of burgundy and all I could feel was rage, and. . . Gods, your nose, do you reckon it's broken?"
James stares at Teddy, a look so full of pity, "I was just speaking with her, Teddy. Her wedding is tomorrow, to my brother, to Albie. She was nervous, needed a friend. That's all."
Rage swelled up in Teddy's gut and he found himself shouting, "Well, she can find another bloody friend, then! You're mine and, gods, I'm so fucking sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me!"
"Teddy, just take me to Hospital. I actually do believe my nose is broken."
"James," Teddy whispers, "something's wrong with me."
"I know." James said quietly.
"This wasn't the first time I've. . . I've hurt you. Like this. It's just, I always promise myself that if I hold you, and apologize, that it'll get better, but it never does."
"I know." James says, sitting up.
After a long silence, Teddy lightly touches one of James's marks.
"You need to be looked at." Teddy states solemnly.
James nods, "I do."
"I need to be looked at too," whispers Teddy.
"You do," says James.