I'm not sure how many fans I'm gonna have after this chapter.

Trigger warnings - self-harm, suicidal thoughts, abuse, rape, panic attacks, depression, and anxiety.

"Fabian! I need to talk to you!"

Fabian stops in his tracks and turns to look at her, silent for a few moments. He glances over at the common room, and Patricia sees Nina watching them intently, patting a spot on the couch for him to sit down next to her.

"About what?"

"It's important." She doesn't answer his question because she doesn't want the rest of the house to hear it, but hopes that the urgency in her tone will convey to him exactly how important this conversation is. Fabian is Eddie's roommate; he's probably told him the most. It shouldn't be hard to get information out of him.

"I'll be there in a minute," Fabian tells Nina. He steps over to Patricia and crosses his arms over his chest. This has to be bad, if Fabian is glaring at her like he wishes she'd just disappear. "You have five minutes. What is it?"

"Can we go into your room?" She turns her gaze to the floor, not wanting to look at him and see the disappointment in his eyes. She knows he's disappointed in her. She's disappointed in herself. She's ready to fix things; it's just a matter of whether she can.

Fabian heaves a heavy sigh and nods, moving in front of her and stopping in front of his door. He cracks it open and looks inside, before opening it fully. Patricia knows he was making sure Eddie isn't in there. Because she's become such a fucking danger that it's a problem if they're in the same room together. She steps into the room and looks around, focusing on Eddie's half of the room because it's something she hasn't seen before.

His bedspread is black and so are his sheets and pillowcases. Band posters cover the walls; My Chemical Romance, Avenged Sevenfold, Bring Me the Horizon, and a few more that she also loves. He has great music taste. There's an open duffel bag at the foot of his bed, clothes spilling out of it, and a pile of books on his desk, papers sticking out of the sides. It's messy and disorganized but so unbelievably Eddie.

"Is he okay?" It's an innocent question, although it probably seems loaded given her attitude toward Eddie in the past few weeks.

"What do you mean?"

"Is he like, depressed, or something? What's wrong with him? I know there's something you guys aren't telling me."

"Perhaps that's because you're going to use it against him," Fabian mutters. "You've done that with just about anything else."

"I'm trying to change," she replies, looking down at her shoes. "I know I've fucked up, but I want a chance to make things right."

"I don't know how well that'll go, Patricia," Fabian replies. "You've messed things up almost irreparably. I don't think Eddie wants to mend things with you."

"You don't know that."

"He doesn't, but I do."

Eddie appears in the doorway of the room, headphones around his neck, glaring at her. He's got his trademark leatherjacket on, and although Patricia assumes it's partly so he can keep up his rebel persona, most of the reason he's wearing it is to hide the cuts he made last night.

"I don't want to fix things," Eddie mutters, biting the words. The expression on his face is murderous. "I don't want to be friends with you. Take your pathetic sorry bullshit somewhere else, because you're too fucking late. Now get the hell out of my room."

"Joy?"

Patricia stands at the entrance to the common room, her heart racing. The only two people not there are Eddie and Fabian. Everyone else is looking up at her, faces a mix of confusion, anger, and disgust. She knows she fucked up. She knows that she's probably messed things up to the point of no return. But she wants to change that – she doesn't want the entire house hating her anymore. She doesn't want Eddie hating her anymore, even though she's given him countless reasons to.

"What is it, Patricia?" Joy's voice is void of emotion and monotone. It only serves to make Patricia's heart ache more. Her best friend can't even stand her. What the hell has she done? How did she become such a heartless monster? There's no justification or explanation for why she did what she did, although she wishes there was. She wishes there was a way to explain it, she wishes she had a reason for what she did besides Eddie being from America.

Patricia catches Joy's eye and lifts her wrist slightly. She hopes that the subtle hint is enough. This isn't a secret she wants the whole house to know.

Joy leans in and kisses Mick's cheek, before standing and walking over to her. She glances down at her wrist. "Did you…?"

"Come upstairs, please," Patricia begs. "Please. I need someone to talk to. Don't shut me out. I need someone on my side."

"I'm not on your side," Joy says quickly. "I'm not going to defend you because you're my best friend, that's not right. I'll listen to you, but I'm still on Eddie's side."

That's better than nothing. Patricia leads the way up to their room, forcing herself to accept that Joy won't be singing her praises any time soon. They need to work up to that.

"What's going on?" Joy asks, curling onto her bed. "Did you cut again?"

"No," Patricia replies. "But I saw Eddie doing it."

Joy stiffens, more alert. She doesn't look shocked or surprised though, and that's a surprise to Patricia. She didn't think Joy knew. What if the whole house knew and she didn't? What if that's why they were being so nice to Eddie, why they were so harsh on her? She was meant to be told and she wasn't and because she didn't get the memo, she was horrible to him. It's all making sense now.

"It's not hard to tell, Patty," Joy says. "That he cuts. You must've seen the signs. It's one of the reasons I couldn't understand why you were so horrible to him. You must've figured out that he was suffering."

"I didn't," she replies regretfully. "I was too blinded with rage, and I don't even know why. It doesn't make sense."

"You're right, it doesn't," Joy tells her. "I still don't get why you had to destroy his self-esteem to raise yours."

"When you put it like that you make me sound horrible!"

"In this situation, you were!" Joy exclaims. "He had panic attacks and mental breakdowns and you did that to him for what? Because his background bothered you? He can't help being American, and he definitely can't help being Mr. Sweet's son!"

"I know," Patricia replies sullenly. "I know, okay? I fucked up. I just wanna make it right, but Eddie doesn't want to hear it."

"I don't blame him," Joy mutters. "You don't deserve his forgiveness."

"Whose side are you on?"

"His," Joy says firmly. "I'll help you figure out a way to apologize and get him to talk to you, but at the end of the day, I'm on his side. He didn't deserve this, Patricia."

"I'm worried," Patricia confesses. "I saw him cutting last night and I'm really worried. Like, is he okay? Fabian's a brick wall."

"Would you have liked it if I'd told the whole house about your problems last year?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly. He doesn't want Fabian telling everyone, and you need to respect that. Start by learning to respect him, or this battle you're fighting for his forgiveness won't go anywhere."

"What do you mean?"

"This passive-aggressive thing you do," Joy points out. "Where you talk about something shitty you've done to someone, and then make up some reason they deserved it so what you did doesn't seem as bad. You're in the wrong and he's in the right."

"You're relentless, aren't you?"

Joy shrugs. "You wanted my help. This is what comes with it. You get a constant reminder of how exactly you fucked up and what exactly goes into making it better. And trust me, it's not going to be easy fixing things."

"Eddie, your father wants to see you during first period."

Eddie groans, as Trudy steps out of the doorway, shutting the door behind her. "I don't wanna go have an awkward conversation him, fuck that."

Fabian pulls his grey sweater over his head and looks over his shoulder at Eddie. "I'm sure he just wants to see how you're doing. I mean, it's been a couple months since you got here and you've had the time to adjust, so he just wants to check up on you."

"I haven't had a father in ten years, what the hell makes him think I need one now?" Eddie grumbles, pulling on his blazer. "I don't need him. I've survived without him for this long, I think I can go two more years without his meddling."

"He's just trying to make things right."

"He's ten years too late."

"At least he's trying at all though, right?" Fabian asks. "He could've not bothered. You could've gone to a group home for two years."

Eddie shudders. "The day I spent in there was enough."

"You were only there for a day?"

"Would've been a week, but I tried to kill myself and ended up in the hospital instead."

Fabian freezes, blazer half on, and stares at him. "You what?"

Eddie chuckles, although nothing is funny. He rolls up one of the sleeves of his blazer and points out a long white scar. "It wouldn't have worked. Someone found me in time, and blood loss is one of the hardest ways to die because it takes so long and you're usually found by then. I had just been taken out of my mom's house and she and my stepdad had been arrested and everything was just too much."

"Fuck," Fabian swears, sitting down next to him. Eddie stares at him, not expecting the use of that expletive. "You…you can't do that, ever again." He lets his fingers travel the length of the scar on Eddie's arm, barely grazing the skin. "Please. You don't need to. You have other options. I'm here, if you need to talk. Just please, don't try and kill yourself again."

Eddie nods, but he knows that's not going to hold true. The suicidal thoughts have been particularly bad recently, and it's hard to stop thinking of how much he wants to kill himself. It's not like a switch he can just flip off when it's convenient for him. The thoughts are there, all the time, and they're relentless.

"I really don't want to go see my dad," Eddie sighs, closing his eyes. "I hate talking to him. It's awkward and weird and uncomfortable and I know he's trying but he waited too long and now things are just too much."

"It'll be over really soon," Fabian encourages. "And today's Friday. We have the weekend to ourselves."

"That's the only thing getting me through all this."

Eddie slumps down in the chair in front of Mr. Sweet's desk, glaring at his father. "Say what you have to say so I can get out of here. I'm not in the mood for this."

"Edison, I-"

"Eddie," Eddie mutters. "I hate my full name. You know that."

"I was the one who chose it," Mr. Sweet replies. "I'd wanted to name you that from the beginning. It reminded me so much of-"

"Okay, we could sit here forever and you could tell me why the sky is blue and why grass is green, but it wouldn't get us anywhere. I don't care what you have to say. I don't care what you think of me. I don't care about any of it."

"I'm trying," Mr. Sweet says. "You need to try too. That's the only way this will work."

"What if I don't want it to?" Eddie shoots back. "What if I'm not interested in making this work? I don't want a relationship with you! I don't want to make things better between us! You don't have to feel guilty about it because I don't fucking want to do any of this! So can you just leave me alone for the next two years until I'm a legal adult when we won't have to do any of this?"

"Watch your language, first of all," Mr. Sweet replies sternly. "And second, I want to try and make this work, Edison. I want to know you. I want to take what little time I have left to be your father. I don't care if you don't want that, I've missed out on far too long for me to sacrifice the next two years."

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?"

"I screwed up!" Mr. Sweet yells. "I screwed up and I take full ownership of that! But here I am, trying to make things better, and you won't even entertain it!"

"Because you left me with a woman who let her fucking husband rape me for years," Eddie growls. "I don't have any sympathy for you."

So...how right was I? All will be explained in time, I promise. Next chapter, the aftermath of this (Eddie definitely wasn't ready to blurt that secret out), and Patricia and Eddie have a very sticky situation on their hands. The more reviews I get, the quicker you get the chapter.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.