Chapter one
The front door opened and Peter was first to enter the house. He smiled softly, looking back at the other three guys. There was a strange mixture of emotions in the air, especially around Davy, causing the other three to be unsure of how to handle things. Peter gave his best "home sweet home" greeting to Davy before stepping aside and allowing the smaller man to enter the house.
Davy seemed timid and unsure as he slowly entered the house. He fidgeted with his hands as he gazed around the main room. All his nerves were building inside of him, despite the lack of reason for him to be nervous. He slowly walked around the room, looking around as though he was taking it all in for the first time. This gave him the appearance of a complete stranger, unsure of his surroundings. As he approached the couch with a bit of caution, he failed to notice that the other three men were behind him, watching his every move from upon the egg shells beneath their feet.
Sitting on the couch seemed almost surreal to him. He looked down and rubbed the cushion on either side of his legs. It was like he was feeling it for the first time; the smooth black leather. He felt strange. Almost like he wasn't really in his body. Almost like he was an alien trying to experience human life first hand. He thought he should have been happy to come home from the hospital. But he felt like he just didn't belong.
"Um," Micky stepped forward "Davy?" He bit his lip. "Do you…. Would you like anything?"
"No I'm fine." Davy said quietly, not looking up at him. "Thanks Micky."
Micky nodded and stepped back, shoving his thumbs into the belt loops of his pants. Mike cleared his throat and moved closer to the couch.
"Davy are you feeling alright? It's just that you seemed okay in the car on the way here. And you were doing better in the hospital before we left. Did, ah, is the- is there something we may have said… or that we may have done to upset you? 'Cause we didn't mean it if we did."
Davy slowly shook his head. "No, Mike. You fellas didn't do anything."
"You just seem so down all of the sudden." Peter said, a bit sadly
"I'm fine Peter. Really. I just want to sit here." Davy mumbled, growing uncomfortable by their actions.
"But Davy… you're acting so different now. You were fine."
"I am fine." Davy insisted, looking up at Peter with the inability to hide the pain growing in his eyes.
"Davy…" Peter replied, visibly hurt by Davy's reaction.
Davy opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He sighed and stood up. Shaking his head, he then hurried into the bedroom. The door shut hard behind him. The other three guys stared at the closed door. They were all baffled over what had happened. No one was even sure of what they should do about this. They couldn't even fathom what could possibly have caused Davy's mood shift between the time they picked him up at the hospital and when they arrived at home. Granted, Davy wasn't exactly his bubbly, carefree, smiling self when they first saw him, he was still in a much better mood than this. These actions were not only unexpected but they were quite puzzling.
Davy sat on his bed holding himself. His head hung low. Tears formed in his eyes and he struggled to hold them back. Pain ran rampant throughout his body; physical pain and emotional pain. On the way home he was enthralled in a world of sorrow. He didn't want any of the other guys to know how he was feeling, and the fact that they picked up on it right away made him feel so much worse. He struggled against his feelings because in his mind he was supposed to be better. The hospital was supposed to help him. His friends were expecting him to be back to his old self. It hurt him so much that he just could not be that way. He didn't feel like he was any better. He wasn't happy. It hurt him so much that he wasn't happy, that he couldn't be the way his friends expected him to be no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't live up to anyone's expectations of him. And that made him feel so much worse.
His tears burned in his eyes and he choked on some air as he continued to try to hold back his tears. He couldn't allow himself to cry because that meant he was only letting everyone down. If he started crying now, he'd have to admit that he was still feeling depressed. He'd have to admit all the pain and hopelessness he was still feeling. He'd have to admit that he didn't know how or if he'd be able to feel happy again. He just couldn't face going through this and seeing the looks of disappointment on his friends' faces if he told them.
Closing his eyes, he let out a staggered breath. Tears managed to squeeze out of his eyes and slowly roll down his face. He could no longer fight against them, and he gave in to the falling tears as they increased. He held himself a little tighter as he began to struggle against a rush of memories. Releasing a sigh, he lay back and pinched the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to face these memories but he knew they'd keep haunting him if he tried to block them. Knowing it was better to face them, he sighed and allowed them to come to him.
Davy sat on his hospital bed, slowly rubbing the tops of his legs. He muttered to himself, all the things that his mind had been screaming at him for a while. How worthless he was. How much of a disappointment he was to everyone. Useless. Pathetic. Waste of space. Should have never been born. If he kept feeling this way about himself then it must be true. Certainly everyone else felt the same way about him. Otherwise they wouldn't have sent him to the hospital like some kind of nut.
He found it nearly impossible to contain his emotions as he let his tears flow. He was scared. Ashamed. Alone. Hopeless. Desperate. Angry. Sorrowful. Pain… there was so much pain surrounding him. So much darkness. So much emptiness. He couldn't stand it but he was engulfed by it. There was no escaping it no matter how hard he tried.
His thoughts surrounded him. Taunted him. Tried so hard to convince him. He started listening to the thoughts. He believe them. They told him he needed to die. It was the only way out of this. It made so much sense. He needed to die. And he needed to find a way to do it now.
Davy sat straight up, wracked with tears. He looked around his hospital room for something, anything useful. Something that would do the job for him. As he searched, panic came over him. He collapsed on his bed, clutching the sides of his head and holding his eyes tightly closed. He couldn't do it. He knew the hospital staff would never let him get anywhere near ending his life. Quickly wiping away tears, he took a few deep breaths. He slowly stood and walked to the door in search for a nurse in the hallway.
His usual nurse was nearby. He got her attention and waited for her to come over to him. When she asked him how she could help, he looked at her with sad eyes. Sadness wasn't the only emotion filling them. They also showed a mixture of fear, pain and pure desperation.
"I-I need to talk to my doctor." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Please. It's important."
She gave him a small sympathetic grin. "I'll see if I can find him. What is this about?"
"Please." He begged her, growing more desperate "Just get him for me. I need to talk to him. It's very important. Please."
"I'll get him right away. Hold on." She turned and walked away, barely missing Davy's quiet "thank you."
A few minutes later, Davy looked up as his doctor entered the room. The doctor closed the door behind him and pulled a chair up next to Davy's bed. He cleared his throat as he sat down.
"Davy I was told that you needed to talk to me about something important. Tell me what is troubling you."
"I've been having bad thoughts." Davy mumbled, keeping his gaze down.
"What sort of bad thoughts? Could you tell me what you're thinking?"
Davy looked up at him with dark, serious eyes. "I'm considering suicide."
Opening his eyes, Davy looked at his wrist. The white band from the hospital was still there and it bothered him to no end. He grabbed his wrist, covering the hospital band and he sat up. As he was looking around for some scissors to cut the band off, he heard the door open. Peter peeked into the room and looked at Davy. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Davy?" He walked over to his bed and sat down. "Davy I um… I want to talk to you."
Davy shrugged, keeping his head down. He rubbed his wrist wishing even more that he could remove the band. "What's stopping you?" He mumbled.
"I um… Davy… I was just concerned about you. There's something upsetting you, I know it."
"I'm fine, Peter."
"You've been crying though. Davy please talk to me."
"I don't want to talk." Davy whispered
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to sit in here and be left alone."
"But this isn't good. You shouldn't keep this stuff inside like this." Peter paused, looking at him sadly. "You've always been the one to help me feel better when I'm upset. You always talk to me about things when I need to talk. Now I want to do the same for you. Davy… please open up. I want to help."
Davy slowly shook his head, feeling tears again. "Peter… I don't want to talk. I'm fine."
"You're not fine though!" Peter exclaimed, hurt from being dismissed.
"Peter please… I don't mean anything by this. I don't mean to hurt you. I just need to be alone right now." He sighed and a tear landed on his hand. "I'll talk when I'm ready. I promise."
Peter looked at him sadly "Okay… I guess I'll leave you alone then. If that's what you want." He watched Davy nod his head. "Okay."
Knowing he couldn't argue with Davy or get him to talk, Peter stood and quietly left the room. There was nothing he could do to help Davy right then. But he knew he would be needed at some point. The best thing he or anyone else could do was wait for Davy to come to them.
