Shattered: Chapter 35

"I honestly don't know what I want in life. I don't even know what I want right now. All I know is that it hurts so much inside, and it's eating me alive. One day, there won't be anything left of me." – Unknown

Saturday, 20 December 2014

Every morning before Cal left for work, he exercised the same routine. First, he knocked on Ethan's door. It was more of a gesture of kindness than practicality because Cal refused to let Ethan shut his door ("safety" he said). If at any moment he saw it closed, he just opened it back up again. Ethan wanted to be thankful that Cal gave him some illusion of privacy in the way that it only has to be open by a tiny bit, but he can't be because Cal treated him like a misbehaving little boy. After knocking and waiting a few seconds for an answer he wouldn't get (because Ethan didn't see the point in mindless talking) he peeped his head in and asked if Ethan wanted to go to work. A mumbled 'no' would leave Ethan's mouth and Cal would sigh, pull the door to and then go to the kitchen.

A while later (enough time for Cal to eat his breakfast and shower), Ethan would hear Cal patter back to his room. He opened the door, told him what he made Ethan for breakfast (it changed between cereal and toast, both with some fruit) and sat it down on his bedside table. Ethan would usually mumble that he wasn't hungry, or sometimes stay completely quiet, but Cal wouldn't stop doing it. He would then take out his phone and ring Connie. Ethan suspected he did it in front of him so, at any point, he could change his mind and say that he wanted to go to work. (He never did.) The excuse they used was that Ethan had the flu and lost his voice. But the excuse was running thin after the ninth day of using it.

Then, once Cal sat with Ethan for a couple of minutes as he tried to convince him to have some breakfast – Ethan never managed a lot but Cal always made sure he ate some – made sure to tell him to ring if he had a problem and that he loved him (Ethan wanted to respond that he loved him too, but the 'too' suggests he believed Cal loved him in the first place and he just… didn't), Cal would wish him goodbye and leave for work.

Ethan would stay in the same position he woke up in, usually an hour beforehand. Curled under the covers, staring at the wall, wondering if it was possible to run out of tears.

The suggestion came almost a week and a half after Cal started babying him.

Despite the situation, Ethan thought he'd been handling things rather well. Aside from the insomnia he was plagued with and the nightmares that plagued him when he finally managed to drop off, the constant nausea whenever he thought of eating, the constant self-blame that rolled around in his head as he involuntarily kept thinking of all the people he let down or let die, the lack of attending work because why would he go back to a place where he was meant to help people and did anything but and, of course, the constant crushing feeling of darkness, everything was going smoothly.

He knew he should have expected it, really. Cal wasn't the type to sit around and wait for something to happen and it had been over a week since Ethan had just decided to stop existing in every way he can (apart from death, because he didn't think he was quite ready for such a big commitment), so when Cal dragged him – literally – out of his bed and to the bathroom when he came home from work, Ethan should have expected something was wrong.

He wasn't one to let his pride get in the way of things, but he knew he got that gene from his father and sometimes he couldn't avoid it. When Cal sat outside the bathroom like a petulant child (he chose to ignore the fact it was he, himself, being the petulant child), refusing to move until Ethan had showered ("It'll make you feel better, Nibbles. It's been days since you last showered."), Ethan put up quite the fight. But it only took ten minutes until he gave in and stood under the stream of warm water. It was rather nice if he was being honest, but it wasn't nice enough to be worth getting out of bed for.

Once he was showered and dressed, Cal led him to their kitchen and sat him down at the table. A Thursday Night Special was placed in front of him (it wasn't Thursday and it felt wrong to eat it when it wasn't a Thursday, but he didn't complain – Cal looked stressed enough) and Cal sat opposite him with his own crisp sandwich.

Ethan briefly shut his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to quell the nausea. Sat like this, in their kitchen with food in front of him and a worried brother opposite him, it seemed to double. Yet he didn't want to let Cal down, to add to the worry lines on his forehead, and so tried his best to eat it.

He was only three little bites into the meal when the silence started to get uncomfortable. Cal was looking anywhere but his eyes and it unnerved him.

"What's going on?"

Cal jumped, evidently startled by the start of conversation. He said nothing.

"Caleb?"

Sighing, Cal placed down his own sandwich and looked at Ethan's face. He started to speak with trepidation, setting Ethan's body on edge. "Okay, look. You're not going to like what I have to say, but I want you to hear me out, alright?"

"Great thing to preface something with, Cal. No, really, you should get an award."

Ignoring him, Cal jumped straight to the deep-end and asked, "Ethan, how would you feel about therapy?"

He almost felt like jumping from his seat and running from the room like a child. If he had the energy, he might have done. Instead, he looked away from Cal and focused his gaze on the half-eaten packet of biscuits lying on the counter. It was easier scolding Cal inside his head than thinking about the inevitable conversation to come.

"I know it's not something you'd like–"

"That's an understatement."

"–but I was hoping you'd consider it," Cal finished.

Ethan could almost feel the strength of the way Cal looked at him and glanced back at Cal's face. "I don't want to. End of conversation."

"Eth," Cal sighed. "The flu excuse won't last forever, and I swear Connie can tell when I'm lying to her face. The past three days she's got to me as soon as I enter the ED to ask about you. If you can't work that's fine, but you need a reason."

Ethan shrugged, playing around mindlessly with some bread crumbs on his plate. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to think of something else."

"But if you went for an assessment, you might get some therapy and, and then you can get signed off work for however long you need."

"No, Caleb."

"Why not?"

"End of conversation," Ethan pressed, sighing in annoyance. He wished Cal would just drop the therapy talk; it was obvious Ethan didn't want to talk about it. He loved his brother but sometimes he could be really irritating.

Cal leaned back and slumped down, shaking his head. "Stop being so difficult."

"Stop being so stupid, then."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, akin to when they first started to eat. Ethan really regretted asking Cal what was going on now.

"God," Cal ground out between clenched teeth. "Look. There's… I've booked an appointment."

"You what?" Ethan said incredulously, glaring at him.

"It's in a few days. I know it's soon but he said he can see you as he had a cancellation–"

"Ha-ha no. No way. Not happening. And thanks for going behind my back, by the way."

"Shut up and listen. His name is John See and he's a clinical psychologist and–"

"No! That's final!"

Cal sat up with force, a pleading look on his face. "Please, Ethan. It's only an assessment."

Ethan scoffed. "He sounds like a vitamin."

"Oh, stop being childish."

"You want me to spill my feelings to a guy who sounds like he should be one of my 5-a-day." Ethan raised his eyebrows. "It really eludes me how you've known me my entire life and yet think I'd be okay with this. Well done, bro."

Cal huffed out a breath, clenching his jaw. "It's a simple assessment, nothing more if you don't want it."

Ethan's brow furrowed in disbelief – he knew the system and it didn't escape his notice that his thoughts weren't exactly healthy. "Unless they decide to section me."

"Well if there's a reason to section you, you definitely do need help," Cal said bitterly.

"I'm not seeing Vitamin John and that's final."

"It's an assessment," Cal said, raising his voice and throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Which can lead to more!"

Cal looked away from him, rubbing a hand over his head and hair. "Why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because I'm doing fine by myself!"

"For God's sake, Ethan!" He slammed his hands on the table, making Ethan jump. "You said that last time and look what happened."

"Don't you dare bring up last time," he said dangerously.

"You tried killing yourself." He huffed. "More than once, might I add."

"That's low, Caleb. Even for you." Ethan shook his head. "It's not the same; don't even try comparing then to now."

"How can you say it's not the same?"

"Don't go there, Caleb. I mean it."

Cal ignored him. "Oh, let's see. You're not sleeping, and when you are you have nightmares. Constantly. You barely eat or even get out of your bed!"

"Cal–"

"This was the first time you showered in days and it's because I forced you–"

"Stop–"

"You're not even going into work! How many times did you bunk off school as a kid?"

"What makes you think you have the right–"

"Oh and that's not to mention that you hurt yourself deliberately. And for what? To satiate some need for release? Have control? Fun?"

"Oh yeah, because going against the basic human instinct to not get hurt is something I, Ethan Hardy, would do for fun."

"Well, I don't know! You don't talk to me!"

Ethan raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "So you want me to talk to a vitamin instead."

"Goddammit, Ethan. Now you're just resisting for the sake of it."

"I'm not!" Ethan shouted. "I'm disagreeing with you. If your ego can't take it then that's your problem."

Cal ground his teeth together. "Fine. I'm only trying to help; sue me." He stood up with force. "See you in the morning. I'm going to bed."

He started walking away, but he turned back, eyes blazing. "Oh wait, I won't, will I? Because you'll just stay under your fucking covers hiding away from the world and slowly killing yourself." Cal stormed off to his room.

Ethan muttered, "precisely," under his breath, the irony not escaping him that he complained about Cal's ego and yet wanted the last word just to get back at Cal.

It took a while for Ethan to move from the table. The lethargy seemed to decrease as he was arguing with Cal, spikes of energy hitting him before falling away. He just ended up more tired than when he sat down at the table and by the time he could drag his body back to his room he was already sinking deeper than he had since he woke up.

By the time he got to his bed, he sat down heavily and bit down on his lip to try and ignore the feeling. The tingling, burning feeling on him that so enticingly invited the feel of sharp stinging as he sliced his skin. He curled his toes and shut his eyes and tried to think of other things. For the last few days, he's not done it – the idea of Cal knowing finally sinking in enough to stop him. But now it was ever so tempting and it hurt.

To distract himself, he changed out of the clothes Cal had given to him when he showered (something about feeling more normal might help him) and changed into his pyjamas. He thought of going back to the kitchen to clear up both his and Cal's unfinished dinners but the idea of running into Cal was enough to stop him. Cal was angry with him and Ethan didn't want to provoke him more by being there.

He sat against his headboard, drumming his fingers on his thigh. It was distracting, the urge increasing until it was all he could think about. His head was so loud, so noisy. The one thought above them all – do it, do it, do it, drowning out all other thoughts of therapy and Cal and how much of a letdown he was and how he killed patients and killed Ash and he couldn't not think about it.

Until he didn't think about it, and before he knew it everything happened in a blur and he'd given in. He hated himself for keeping the tempting object in his room, hidden from sight. He hated himself even more for giving in to that temptation.

And he didn't even know how long it lasted until he was crying silently, guilt and self-hatred welling up inside of him like the tears in his eyes.

He glanced at the clock. It was at least two hours after Cal had forced him to shower and he sighed. The tears had dried up but his eyes hurt and he had a headache. He hadn't heard Cal move at all since their disagreement and he hadn't looked down at his own destruction since pulling his pyjama leg down and hiding it (he was glad they were black trousers).

He thumped his bed with one hand in frustration. He didn't want to end the day on a bad note with Cal. Logically he knew he was right, seeing someone was probably the best course of action. But emotionally he couldn't and he didn't even know why. There were too many reasons, like a loud party bus and there were too many people making noise so it all just drowned itself out into one collective noise. And that one collective noise was "I can't". He didn't even want to try and decipher the individual voices. It hurt too much.

Preparing himself for the possible volatile conversation to come, Ethan slowly stood up (trying to ignore the sharp pain as his trouser leg brushed up against what he'd done) and made his way to his brother's room.

From the slither underneath the door, Ethan could see a dim light pouring through. He knocked a couple of times stood waiting for a response. A soft "come in" bled through the door and Ethan cautiously entered. Cal looked up from his laptop, nothing but sympathy on his face, and closed the lid, pushing it away from him and towards the end of the bed. He turned on his bedside lamp and the room lit up.

"I'm sorry," Ethan muttered, stood in the doorway. "I didn't mean to get like that… it's just hard, you know."

Cal smiled sadly, patting the bed next to him, inviting Ethan to sit down. Ethan hoped that meant he was forgiven. He slowly (trying not to give away what he'd done) made his way around the bed and sat down on Cal's right, resting his head on Cal's shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten mad or tried to force you into anything. I just… want to see you happy."

Ethan clasped his hands in front of him, twiddling his fingers. "Do you ever just want to… stop existing for a bit?"

Cal shifted, turning his head to look at him in alarm. "Ethan–"

"No, no. I'm not talking about death or anything."

Cal breathed out with relief.

"I wish I could just… pause everything for a while. Like, I'm on a train right now and it's hurtling at full speed down the track and I just want to stop it and get off for a bit. And then be able to get back on it without anything changing. I just want to pause life for a bit. Just stop it and be able to un-pause when I'm ready.

"But you can't," Cal said quietly.

Ethan shrugged. "I know. Doesn't make me stop wanting it though."

"Eth, if you don't mind me asking… why are you so opposed to seeing John See?"

Ethan hesitated. He barely knew himself. "I guess I'm scared. My past isn't great and it haunts me, I don't want to be judged on that and… it just feels wrong. Like, I was better. I got better. Why should I have the right to be this way again? But even still, on the flip side, there's this part of me that asks why I get the pleasure of being happy."

"Nibbles…" Cal sighed.

"I mess everything up, Cal. I hurt patients, I kill them. I cause death. Why should I get the chance to be happy when all I cause is sadness?"

"Is that why you… went back to old habits?" Cal asked carefully.

"Honestly? I don't know." Ethan sighed. "It's hard to resist sometimes. I just get this feeling and it's easier to give in. My head's so loud, Cal. It's always so loud and confusing and it's like I'm seeing the world through these glasses and they distort everything. I don't know what to think or what's the right thing to think and it hurts."

Cal took a moment to respond. "Have you got an example? Maybe I could help."

Ethan had a lot of examples, but just as Cal finished the question, one stood out like a flashing light among the darkness. "I don't know whether you love me or not," Ethan muttered. "I sometimes think you do because of what you do and how you act towards me but then my brain comes up with all the reasons of why you can't and why you'd be better off without me an–"

"Ethan, stop. Of course, I love you!"

"But that's the thing," Ethan emphasised. "I don't know if you do because of how distorted everything is. Like how can someone love me when I…" He stopped. He hadn't meant to go that far.

"Ethan?"

He shook his head.

"Ethan, tell me," he said gently.

He looked to the other side of the room. "I don't understand how someone can love me when I've got a million reasons why they can't. A million reasons why I hate myself."

"Oh, Ethan." Cal's hands closed over Ethan's supportively.

Ethan shrugged, it wasn't like he wasn't used to it by now. "I wasn't being resistant for the sake of it, you know. I don't like arguing. It's just sometimes… it gets too noisy and then you just added to the noise and I just got angry. I don't want my brother being another problem in my head."

"I'm sorry," Cal said heavily.

He shook his head. "Don't be, it's not your fault." He paused, considering his next move. "I don't want to see Vitamin John."

"Then you don't have to."

"But maybe… maybe seeing him is the first step to being okay. I don't know, Caleb. It's too… muddy to think most of the time. It's too loud in my head. I can't do it by myself."

"So?" Cal asked, and Ethan picked up on the slight edge of hopefulness straight away.

"If seeing Vitamin John is the first step, then so be it."

"I'm proud of you, buddy," Cal said, a smile in his voice. "And you're not alone. You've got me too and I love you.'

Ethan wished he believed him.

pxnic-at-mxdnight: yeah, I gave them some light relief before it all came crashing down again hahaha. Unfortunately, Ethan is perceptive, and maybe Cal shouldn't have told Lofty without Ethan's permission…. Yep, definitely parallels between kid Ethan and adult Ethan! Hahaha, I hope this one was worth the wait too, 8 months of wait oops hahaha.