Story: Coming Undone.
Author: Raining Senseless Thoughts.
Summary: When Dewey is suddenly thrown into a coma, Malcolm's life turns tragic in fear of the brother he has always loved. He begins to skip school, cause trouble, attempt suicide, and many other depressive things. And when the new girl at school, Rachel, starts to threaten him, he realizes he's… Coming Undone.
Disclaimer: All characters except for those you don't recognize are property of Malcolm in the Middle. I own the unrecognized characters and the plot.
Coming Undone
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Silence wreaked the Wilkerson household for the one time of the day that actual peace could be held and cherished.
Only one soul seemed to haunt its insides, a very young, tender soul.
Dewey Wilkerson was hungry. And he was going to get food if it was the last thing he did.
Little did he know that as he thought that, it would become true within months.
Creeping downstairs, he slid into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge.
Looking up suddenly, Dewey spotted a large, glass crystal bowl with pudding in it atop the fridge. Feeling his hunger shake his insides, Dewey started to knock things as quietly as he could against the fridge.
And then the bowl fell, and the crash was muffled by the young boy's tender body.
Oh, I fall so fast,
Depression wreaks my mind,
I'm so numb all the time,
I think I'm beginning to get,
Get so dizzy inside my skin.
"Malcolm! Get up! Hurry!" Reese kicked his brother's bed, only to find that it cost him his leg's health. The small cut smarted dutifully, a painful reminder of why it would just have been so much easier to just punch the middle aged brother.
Malcolm Wilkerson groaned, sunlight pressing angel kisses on his eyelids as the morning filtered through his closed eyes, colors of bright yellow and orange splashing a mental sunset.
"I said get up! If you don't get up… Just get up!"" Reese said rather frantically, fear in his voice, and with a glare, hurried out of the room, a tear dripping from his face slightly.
Malcolm groaned, but got up slowly, the cold hitting him like a ton of bricks. Why was Reese up so early, anyway? It was Saturday, after all, the official sleep – in day at the Wilkerson household, along with the rest of the free minded world.
A yell erupted from downstairs, and Lois and Hal's angry shouts could be heard as they thundered downstairs, not ready to be woken up that early.
"Not now," Malcolm groaned, pulling on a fresh wifebeater and some jeans as he walked slowly down the hallway. "Not today."
Suddenly, everyone was shrieking, but one particular voice was missing… Dewey's.
Running into the kitchen, Malcolm felt his stomach grow nauseous.
Dewey's half - bloody body lay on the ground in the kitchen, mangled with shards of glass, his head hurt.
Malcolm screamed, but before long, he felt his legs giving out.
No… He needed to be strong, to get help for Dewey… No, he must make it… No.
And then the world become suddenly black.
He didn't even know what to say.
Here he, Malcolm Wilkerson, the genius, was sitting beside his little brother's bed, watching him sink deeper into a coma, and he had absolutely nothing to say.
Wasn't he allegedly supposed to come up with some mega interesting fact that broke the silence?
But he couldn't; because he felt so impossibly numb.
Malcolm's eyes were littered with tears, but he refused to cry in front of everyone. No, he would save all that pain for later.
Goddamn, he hadn't even known that Dewey meant that much to him. He had always supposed he'd loved him like the little brother that he was, but it was impossible to feel that while Reese and himself were either terrorizing Dewey, or just plain leaving him out.
But hey, that was normal, right?
His mother pointed to Hal, then to Reese and Malcolm, and shook her head.
Hal slowly stood, touched each of the boys on the arm, and then they followed him out the door, towards a place that could no longer be called a home.
Author's Note: Kind of cruddy first chapter, but I'm tired. Forgive me; the other ones shall be better.