AN: Yeah, this only made me cry?
Song: Pain- Three Days Grace
He used to live in it. Or, well, live for it. He would function until he could figure out a new way out, a new fix. His life itself, was not worth a dime. He'd crawl from the living room, clutching his broken ribs. Using the time he was given, as his Dad passed out in the couch from the crash, to get away. He was done with it. So tired, so worn out. But, physical pain would always be easier. He would always pick a few busted ribs, a black eye over the pain of seeing everything taken away. Watching everything he loved die. You could never hide from pain, so he made a choice. But wasn't easy to find when you were looking.
So, he improvised. Even after leaving, things didn't get any better. So, because of Eli's excellent luck, they got worse. But he didn't have his dad's anger to distract the gut wrenching pain of the hand life had dealt him. It was so much easier to focus on a bruise or an irritated cut than everything else. So, he 'self medicated'. Razor blades kiss his skin, leaving long red lines. Streams. It came in streams, anger and emotion flowing out of him. Leaving him void. Calming his mind. Everything was easier this way. And no one cared, no one as much noticed. He stayed out of there way, they left him to his obsession.
But after their latest move, after he had started going to Degrassi, something changed. He stopped... Needing it. He found a different release. He found people who gave a flip if he was alive or not. It was a completely new concept. It kind of stunned him into a stupor. That stupor made him forget the cut of a knife, made him forget that calm that spread when his issues dripped out of his veins. Because, though there were the little dramas, he hadn't felt the need to go back to his lonely habit.
He had nearly forgotten it had ever even happened, forgot he used to live like that. These days, everything had been... Kind of really fantastic. So, you couldn't imagine his confusion when, as he and Clare were leaning against the bleachers, examining writing techniques of the most recent piece of literature, he heard the panicked exclamation from the little red head.
"What the HELL are those, Eli?" He looked over at Clare, not having the first idea what she was talking about. He had his arm clutched in her hands, her eyes staring at it in shock. Then he realized what she saw.
Scars.
"Nothing." he mumbled. He wretched his arm away from her, pulling his sleeve down hard. He felt that familiar twist in his stomach, the ache in the back of his mind. The sarcasm had leaked from his voice, leaving it dry. He didn't have the heart to conjure up an elaborate story to sway the conversation, no little distractions. The smirk completely melted off his face.
"That is not nothing" She stared at him, eyes tearing up. He cringed. Here it comes. She calmly took his hand, outstretching his arm. He didn't stop her, holding his breath. Afraid of her reaction.
He felt her brush her hand over his forearm, lifting his sleeve. Her fingertips softy traced the angry scars that covered her lover. Her breath hitched, her baby blue eyes sparking in determination. He cringed, his eyes scrunching closed, wishing this hadn't happened. He saw her leaving, telling him how sick he was: he knew it. She had every right to do so, too. He was sick.
His eyes snapped open. What. Was. That? Clare had his arm cradled in her hands. Soft lips whispered across the angry tracks in his mutilated skin, as though to wish them away. Eli had expected anger, disgust. People thought this habit was nasty. Thought that these people, his people, were mentally ruined, outcasts at to the core. They deserved it. So, why was she acting like this? When she lifted her head, she looked straight at him; her eyes misty but her jaw stubborn.
"We will be okay. You will be okay." Her voice was so strong, so sure. He was stunned into silence. She leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck. Slowly, mind still trying to figure out what just happened, his arms mechanically wrapped around her.
"I love you. And that won't changed." Suddenly it hit him, she wasn't angry she was… sad? For him. Upset. As in, unfathomably worried for his wellbeing. Worried he was going to get hurt. Angry at herself for not preventing it.
He pulled her against him hard, sitting her on his lap. She buried her face in his shoulder, tears bleeding through his shirt. She was prepared to be strong for both of them, afraid that that was the only option. She wished she didn't have to be, but she'd take on the role to keep them together and safe. His hand traced circles on her back.
"It was a very long time ago, Clare. It was different then. I'm fine, everything is fine. Better than fine, it's great. Right now, right here." He whispered softly. She nodded limply, not raising her head. Not wanting to look in his eyes, and know everything was not fine. Wanting desperately to believe him.
"…With You. You're the reason I don't need it anymore. You're the reason I can leave it all behind. You're what's saving me, Clare."
Anger and agony
Are better than misery
Trust me I've got a plan
When the lights go off you will understand
Anger and agony
Are better than misery
Trust me I've got a plan
When the lights go off you will understand