This is a little prompt about my OC and my friend's OC. Not really fandom related but if you know our works you'll understand the thing.
Fandom: Sorta WWE?
Characters: Tom, Sara, mentions of CM Punk
Warnings: depression, angst, mentions of suicide, language
Prompt: "Memories are the worst form of torture"
Sara sat curled in the guest bathroom's bathtub, a bottle of Jager in one hand and a razor blade in the other. Tears stained her face, her mascara ruined and smudged under her eyes. This had been one of the roughest days since her and Phil had split. After six months, she was still struggling to get herself together but most days she was emotionally intact. She still didn't have a place of her own which was her denial and refusal to accept that the relationship was over. The Chicago apartment was her home, she and Phil had purchased it together. They remodeled it, decorated it, and lived in it together. Now she was crashing at Tom's place, refusing to look anywhere for a new place.
The depression was triggered by a dream she had about Phil, and she woke up with a pain in her heart and a ton of memories flooding her mind. She pushed through the day until she couldn't fight it anymore. She broke down.
Tom was out with this week's model of boy toy, so she was alone. Alone with the memories, alone with the pain, and alone with her thoughts. The physical pain she felt was almost unbearable, heartbreak was a bitch for her.
She grabbed her required items and made her way to the bathroom, ready to give up and end it all. She sat in the empty tub and twirled the razor between her fingers, staring off.
"I love you" Phil whispered in her ear, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her to him
"I love you too" Sara nuzzled into his neck, trailing kisses over his many tattoos.
"Really?" Phil asked
"More than anything"
Sara still remembered the sound of his voice, still remembered exactly how he had said those words to her. They had felt so sincere, so believable. She laughed at herself, feeling stupid as hell for thinking he had ever actually loved her.
A knock on the bathroom door tore Sara from her thoughts, her eyes stinging from the tears.
"Sara?" You in there?" Tom's voice called from behind the door
She couldn't find the strength to respond, so she took another swig from the bottle.
"Sara?" Tom asked again, his voice changing to concern
"Go away" she finally managed to say, barely audible
Tom sighed, placing his forehead against the door. This wasn't how he wanted his night to go.
"No, Sara. Come out here. There's a tub of ice cream in the freezer, we can watch stupid movies."
No response.
Tom frowned as walked into the living room. His date was sitting on the couch, waiting for Tom to return.
"Hey, man" Tom sighed, running his fingers through his hair "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to call it a night. My roommate, she isn't doing well and I've gotta take care of her"
His date understood and they quickly arranged a make up night before the man left. Tom grabbed a paper clip off the coffee table and returned to the bathroom door. He knelt down and began to pick the lock. Moments later, he heard the click of the lock and he opened the door.
"Jesus Christ" Tom muttered, seeing the mess that was his friend sitting in the tub
Sara was curled up, her knees against her chest. She was staring off into the distance. As Tom approached, he saw blood running down her arm where she had sliced at her wrist.
"Fuckin' shit woman" Tom grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Sara's arm
Sara didn't even blink and Tom wondered if she was mentally still on this planet. He examined the cut, determining that it wasn't life threatening but she definitely needed stitches, which he could easily apply.
Tom lifted the girl out of the tub, making sure the towel stayed applied to her arm. He carried her into the kitchen and sat her up on the counter. She lowered her head, looking at the floor. Tom went off in search of the materials he'd need to stitch Sara up. He returned with fishing line, a needle, and a cup of ice from the freezer. After sterilizing and cleaning her arm, he began to apply the ice to her skin.
"Hey!" Tom said, using his free hand to lift her chin "Look at me, snap out of it"
Tom's heart sank as Sara slowly lifted her eyes to look at him. She appeared lifeless and empty and it hurt him to see his friend go through this. Next time he saw Punk he was going to punch him right in the dick.
"I'm sorry" Sara whispered
"It's okay. I've got you" Tom began to sew her wound shut.
Sara didn't even flinch as the needle pierced her skin. She didn't even feel it, she was numb to everything except the crushing pain in her chest. Once Tom was done, he bandaged her wound and threw the bloody towel in the trash.
"There. All better" Tom nodded, this not being his first time having to stitch somebody up
"No it isn't" Sara sniffed "It'll never be better"
"I can only fix physical wounds, babe" Tom said
Sara leaned forward, placing her forehead against Tom's muscular chest. Tom wrapped his arms around her, knowing she just needed to be held at the moment. He wasn't an affectionate person generally, especially when it wasn't a romantic situation, but Sara needed someone and he was the only one around to take care of her.
"It hurts" she mumbled into his shirt
"What does?" Tom asked
"The memories. I just want them to go away"
"Memories are the worst form of torture" Tom stated