Bill hugged Brooke tightly as she
sobbed in his arms. "It's alright," he said as he continued to
stroke her hair, "everything is going to be ok."
"Take me
home?" She asked.
Bill had told the others he was going to take Brooke home. Tom, Gustav and Georg decided to stay at the fairground but promised they'd call tomorrow once they'd woken up from the long sleep they each planned to take in their own beds. Bill gave the driver Brooke's address and they were on their way. She eventually cried herself to sleep, her head on Bill's shoulder.
He hadn't seen her like this before. She wasn't the kind of girl to wear hear heart on her sleeve. He'd only seen her cry once, when they were 8 she fell off the roundabout and broke her leg, nothing could have stopped the tears that day. But these tears were for a different kind of pain. These tears were for years of pain, torment and longing, tears of loss.... These tears were a release.
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the door, where he realised, she had the key. He looked down at her sleeping, her arms wrapped around his neck. Even asleep she looked sad. The arm of her jacket was loose revealing the skin on her arms. Bill almost dropped her as his stomach churned. What had she done to herself? He thought, looking at the deep red wounds on her skin. He shook her gently to wake her.
"Brooke? Brooke, we're
home."
She stirred and mumbled to herself as she came around. He
put her down gently and watched as she searched her pockets for the
key. Once she'd opened the door she turned to face Bill who was
still standing on the porch.
"Will you stay...please?" She
asked.
"Of course" he smiled as he entered the house. He
hadn't planned on going home.
Bill sat on the sofa as Brooke
sorted some drinks in the kitchen.
"Here we go, is white wine
okay?" she asked. Bill nodded.
"I'm so glad you're home
Billa."
"Me too." He took a sip. He was going to need some
Dutch courage.
"I'm just going to get changed...these heels
might look cute but they kill my feet!" she laughed.
Bill downed the glass of wine. How was he going to approach this? He needed to talk to Brooke about the cuts on her arms, but they'd just been reunited...he didn't want to upset her. He thought about it for a while, and then took a deep breath. He knew how she was feeling, yet he still couldn't find the words he was searching for. As his eyes scanned the room they came across a photograph; It was Bill, Tom and Brooke with their parents. The twins and their best friend posed happily with their brand new bikes, the very bikes they'd practically begged their parents for one Christmas. It was a happy time for them all.
Brooke sat down on the sofa
next to Bill with her wine glass in hand. She'd changed into her
pyjamas; a long sleeved red t-shirt, black bottoms and fluffy red
socks. Bill had to laugh at the socks.
"So, that kiss..."
Brooke started.
"Yeah," Bill blushed.
"I really want to
tell you something." She looked pretty serious.
"There's
something I wanted to talk to you about too" he took her hand, "I'm
not quite sure how to say it bu-"
"Spit it out Billa" she
laughed "you know you can talk to me!"
"I saw the cuts
Brooke..."
She pulled her hand away and tugged nervously at her
sleeves.
"My friend has a cat. We were playing and he got a bit
wild" she lied.
"They're not cat scratches Brooke."
"They
are, I swear!"
"Brooke...they're not cat scratches." He
repeated.
"How would you know?!" desperation rose in her
voice.
He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal matching
scars.
Brooke dropped to her knees as she cried. She cried for
herself, for being found out and for Bill; for her little Billa and
the pain that had caused him to destroy himself too.
Bill
looked down at his arm, the scars were a faded purple, the older ones
almost white. He hadn't self harmed in a while. He was almost
caught once and when he couldn't stop the bleeding he freaked out,
he didn't want to die, he just needed the release. Was it
hypocritical of him to help Brooke when he'd been just as bad? He
found himself kneeling on the floor next to her, holding her as she
sobbed.
"I just want to help Brooke."
"I know," she
cried, "I can't help it!"
"It's ok," he reassured her,
"we'll figure this out."
She looked up at him, tears and
make up staining her face, and gently planted a kiss on his lips.
"I
missed you so much Billa."
"I missed you too."
He kissed
her back, more passionately this time, before lifting her arm and
kissing every one of her scars. She sniffed as she held back more
tears.
"Please don't think I forgot about you Brooke."
Bill started.
"I thought about you every day, I called a few
times but things got in the way...I even sent flowers when you're
parents..."
She winced as he said the words. "They were from
you?"
Bill looked confused.
"I saw the ones for my parents,
they were beautiful by the way, I just thought your manager would
have arranged them...then a bouquet came to the house but there was
no card...they were from you?"
"They were from all of us."
She
embraced him in a hug. "Thank you." The tears flowed again and
she cursed herself for being so emotional. This wasn't how she saw
her reunion with Bill.
"Why did you do it?" he asked.
"I
don't know..." she avoided eye contact. "I just needed the
release."
He could relate to that.
"I was lonely Bill; my
two best friends had moved to the other side of the world,
indefinitely. I had nobody else. Then my parents die..." The words
got stuck in her throat. "I needed you Billa."
She took a deep
breath.
"Cutting was the only way I could let it all out, you
know?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you
Brooke-bear."
She laughed at the name. He hadn't called her
that for years, but the way he said it now gave her
butterflies.
"What about you?" She asked.
"Umm, I needed
you too. Being in America was great, writing and recording songs,
being with Tom, Georg and Gustav...having Mutti and Gordon there
every step of the way. The gigs were amazing, we have a huge fan base
now and we met some awesome people, but none of it was the same
without you Brooke. I couldn't even call you. I
realised nothing was worth that pain..."
She understood.
"I
want to show you something..."
She took Bill's hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom.
