In Sickness And In Health – Epilogue
A/N: I FINALLY FOUND A WAY AROUND THE ERROR 2 MESSAGE! FUCK YES~!
Sorry this has taken so long to upload
This isn't a necessary chapter; if you don't want to you don't have to read it, but this is the extra some people wanted. I hope you enjoy it, sorry if it took a while.
::PLEASE READ THE END A/N AS IT CONTAINS SOME IMPORTANT NOTICES!:: - Thank You.
Warnings: I don't think there are any warnings, but language, just in case.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I do own this story and it's plotline.
=X=
=PIP=
The sunlight filters through my blue curtains, casting a dim light over my eyes and waking me up. I blink my eyes open lazily, coming slowly to my senses. Light is coming in room through the window to my right. My bedcovers are still pulled tightly to my chin.
There's still the warmth of a familiar body lying next to me.
I roll over slowly, watching Damien sleep. He's beautiful when he sleeps, so peaceful. One hand is under his head, supporting it, the other rests gently on my hip. I smile and press myself closer to him, raising my own arm to wrap it round his torso.
I feel the fabric brush against the skin of my inner fore-arm, but choose to ignore the odd way the fabric catches slightly on my ragged scar. I can't think about that, not today. Today has to be perfect and happy, untainted by the darkness behind us.
The events of last year won't stop haunting me.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. None of that I think firmly just you and Damien. That's all that matters.
I lie awake for a few minutes before Damien starts stirring.
"Mornin' Dami." I whisper. His eyes open and look at me lazily.
"Mornin Pippers." He replies gently, smiling. I smile back.
"How are you this morning?" he asks. He always does.
"I'm okay." I assure him.
"That's good." He murmurs, pulling me to his chest. I smile and nuzzle against his neck. He sits up with a yawn, breaking the contact for a moment before he reaches down to place his warm hand over my own. I clasp it gently, keeping it with me, so I can feel the warmth of his skin on mine, and he squeezes back.
"D'you mind if I take a shower?" he asks. I smile and shake my head.
"No, go ahead, I'll meet you downstairs."
His eyes search me for a moment before he leans over to peck my cheek and walks out of the room, running a hand through his bed-tousled black hair. I stare after his disappearing back for a minute before I get up to get changed. I pull out a nice shirt, some light jeans and my new jumper. Because my last one was ruined, Damien offered to buy me another of the same type. It's fluffy, like its predecessor, but a different colour; this one is pure white. I didn't want an identical copy.
I look at myself in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes from many nights of restless sleep disturbed by nightmares and panic attacks are getting lighter as I improve. My hair is brilliantly shiny again, and my skin is no longer too pale. I'm still slightly on the thin side, but I've filled out enough that I'm no longer an extremely unhealthy weight. I nod at myself and turn away.
I know Damien loves a cooked breakfast, a proper, full English breakfast, like I made for him when he first came over a year ago, so I'm going to make one this morning. Like a special treat, apart from the fact that he has it reasonably regularly.
I'm looking forward to today.
=DAMIEN=
I scan his features, to make sure there is no hint of worry hidden within them. I find nothing, so I kiss him quickly and make my way to the bathroom. I'm still wary of leaving him alone, especially without telling him or asking him if he's okay with it. No last-minute going out, no suddenly disappearing, even for a few minutes. Even if he is getting better, he's still fragile and I don't want to take us back to step one by being careless. I care about him way too much.
As I walk down the stairs after my shower I smell his wonderful breakfast. He's a fucking awesome cook. Way better than my dad could ever hope to be. He'll probably end up asking tips from him eventually. Yeah, my father asking cooking advice from my boyfriend. Makes me want to face-palm.
I stand in the archway to our kitchen/dining room, watching him. As he sets things up I see him take a small bottle of pills and swallow one.
Pip was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, or BPD, last year while he was in the hospital. He's been prescribed to a few antidepressants since then, just to prevent him from going on some sort of downward spiral. The therapy he does has helped significantly, and the therapist himself thinks that soon Pip won't need any sort of medication, and might even recover fully. I'm glad of that.
Pip turns and sees me, and beams. He smiles so much more now, and every time he does I can't help but do so too. I want him to be happy so badly, because he deserves it. If anyone deserves happiness, it is Philip Pirrup, this wonderful beautiful boy in front of me, this boy who has been through so many bad times and pulled himself through, this boy, my Pip.
He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls my face down to his. After lip-locking for a few minutes (goddamn I love kissing him) he pulls away, serves my breakfast onto a plate and sets it down.
"I'm going to go have a quick shower too, okay? I'll be down in a few minutes, so don't steal mine. I'm hungry."
I will not deny that every single time he disappears upstairs to the bathroom my heart jumps slightly and I become rather hyper-alert to him. I do trust him, and since nothing has happened for a very long time I think the chances of anything suddenly happening are very slim, but I honestly can't help it.
I tuck into my breakfast, still on alert.
=PIP=
I quickly strip of my clothes and step into the warm stream of water. I wash, subconsciously avoiding my left arm. When I run my hand over it, the texture of the scar that reminds me it is still there sends a shiver up my spine, as always. Against my pale skin, it stands out, looking both darker and lighter than my normal skin tone; normally it seems a pale purplish colour, almost like a bruise, but if the light catches it, it has a weird shine. It's still quite ragged, and very permanent from the however-many stitches they put into it. Even Damien hasn't been able to heal it massively.
Because I was in a hospital and being monitored, he couldn't heal it faster to minimise scarring, so it had to heal at a natural rate, which caused this. He tried fixing it slightly afterwards, like he had with my older scars when he first came back, but although it faded slightly it's still extremely there and noticeable. It's not going away. I will always have a reminder of what I did, and while it upsets me to remember it too much, how it felt and what I was thinking, and ashamed of myself, I will also have a reminder that I lived through it to be able to look back.
I'm supposed to try and find a positive for it, because negativity will not get me anywhere, but it's hard with a scar from a near-successful suicide attempt.
"Pip?" Damien calls gently.
This signals that, while lost in my train of thought, I have been up here a bit longer than I told him and he's now worried. I hate worrying Damien. I've worried him too much already; he deserves to never be worried again. I promised myself I would never make him worry about me. I quickly dry myself, dress and wrap my hair in a towel.
"Sorry Dami, it was really warm and I lost the time in my thoughts." I apologise as I hurry down the stairs and sit opposite him. As I appear, unharmed, I see him relax slightly.
"It's okay. It's not your fault." He murmurs, resting his elbows on the table and leaning onto them slightly. I start to eat my breakfast, and giggle quietly when he steals a sausage off my plate.
"Hey, my breakfast." I remind him teasingly.
"But I like your sausages." Damien grins at me, before biting half of it off. I tut slightly and roll my eyes.
"Well, after we've finished, I was thinking of going to get a film." I smile. Damien nods and tries to mumble something but his mouth is full of sausage so I can't understand him. He swallows, and tries again.
"That'd be great. We haven't watched a film together in a while." He eventually manages. I smile and nod, returning to my breakfast. He continues to eat the rest of the stolen sausage.
After a quick trip over to the video rental store we're sat back in our front room, Damien spread out over the sofa with his head in my lap. He likes lying like that; I usually fall unconsciously to stroking his hair, which he enjoys. I've discovered that if I do it for long enough, he'll fall half asleep and make his own odd growling-purr-like sound. He denies it, but I know he does it, and I love it. It makes him seem sort of cute.
His eyes are focused lazily on the screen, half closed. He blinks slowly, then nudges his head gently into my hand, currently resting atop his head. I ruffle his hair slightly and smile down at him. He sits up slightly, and gestures for me to lie down beside him. I do, and cuddle into his chest, watching the movie over the top of him, and feel myself grow sleepy from the warmth.
=DAMIEN=
Pip nestles himself into my side, lying comfortably beside me, his head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around him and gently stroke his silky hair like he was doing to me just before. I can see his eyes slowly grow heavy. He's tired a lot; he doesn't get very much sleep, because he's constantly waking. He's not quite so badly affected by nightmares anymore, but there are still times when he'll suddenly wake and not be able to sleep again. I cope a lot better with little sleep than humans do, so always being awake when he is doesn't affect me much, but it does take its toll on him sometimes.
I rub his arms soothingly, settling us both comfortably. He yawns adorably and lets his eyes fall shut. I turn the volume of the TV down so that it doesn't disturb him, and settle myself into a light half-awake state. I can feel him tense occasionally, a small twitch of the hand, a slightly tighter grip on my shirt. I squeeze him gently, trying to reassure him. This is the best thing to do when he seems tense in his sleep; if I wake him to comfort him, he won't sleep for sometimes hours afterwards.
Eventually he relaxes completely, and I can sense his mind is calm. It looks like he might actually get a decent spell of sleep.
I know today is the year mark – the anniversary if you will – of our reunion and unofficial (or non-public) date of us first becoming a couple. The past year has been tiring, I won't deny, and it's been tough, but we've made it through. This day is symbolic; a full year, a full circle. Now is the time to start again and leave the past behind us. Never forget it, no, but learn from it and move on. I reflect back on our year, the rough patches, the good times. The sympathy from a majority of the student body upon learning about what had happened to Pip; Pip slowly coming out of his shell, becoming Pip again; the first time he smiled; the first time we kissed.
The mess with his parents was sorted not long after Pip had been released from hospital. Using threat of legal action for deliberately leaving Pip to become indebted to them, the Trents eventually withdrew their demand for repayment, and I bought the house as ours to avoid any further problems. I was extremely angry at them for causing Pip all this grief and almost flew into a rage at them – which may not have ended well – but Pip stopped me. I couldn't believe how nice he was to these people, but I saw in his eyes that he was wary about them. I could also see the guilt in Mrs. Trent's face, although no such emotion was present in Mr. Trent's. Apparently it had always been Mrs. Trent who was the most affectionate to Pip. I wondered if she had willingly gone along with her husband's plan, or if she was somehow forced.
Either way, it's behind us: we haven't had contact with them since, and like it that way.
Pip stirs in his sleep and looks up at me. His eyes search my face for a minute and I can tell he's thinking about whatever occurred to him in his sleep.
"I promise to stay with you through anything." He says eventually, eyes looking deep into mine.
"And I promise to stay by your side for eternity, no matter what happens." I tell him sincerely. He smiles contentedly, and settles down again.
"Thank you Damien. I love you." He murmurs, eyes closing once more.
"I love you too Pip." I tell him, and he nudges me with his head to show that he heard before he slips off to sleep again.
I decide to follow him, and as I drift off I repeat the vow I made to him, a full year ago.
=X=
A/N: I think this is okay. This is the third attempt; it took me ages to actually achieve what I wanted from this epilogue.
I hope I haven't disappointed any of you, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you to my reviewers from last chapter: Meso the Hanyu, Kylee Carr and angelgirl 158.
I am hoping to get quite a few reviews for this chapter; there are 25 people who have this on alert and I should theoretically get one from that many people. I hope as many of you review as possible, as this is the very end of this story, and I would very much appreciate knowing what you thought of it overall. So please, take this into account, and don't just read and leave. I'm not demanding, and I haven't said anything in previous chapters, but I really hope that the end of the story will mean more people review, more than just three, even if just to say 'I liked this story' 'I enjoyed this story', even critique will be fine (though hopefully only for this chapter, else it should have been pointed out sooner.).
ALSO!
My poll for next story; I currently have only 5 voters, and I have a tie between two stories. I would be extremely happy if as many people as possible went to my profile to vote so I can get started! It will be open for another 2-3 weeks from now, or until the tie is broken. I hope to see you voting if you haven't already.
Well, this is... the end. The very, very end.
From here, goodbye.
See you in my next story :)