Chapter 10

Jason's Point of View

I'm skateboarding around the park with Piper when I get the call.

"Jason," he says. I can tell something's wrong almost immediately.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, unable to keep fear from creeping into my voice.

"I- I need help," he manages to choke out between sobs. My stomach sinks; it must be bad if he's willing to admit that. Piper's staring at me questioningly, and I motion for her to hold on.

"What's wrong?" I ask him. I'm scared to find out the answer.

"Can you come over?" His words slur together, like he's half asleep, but it's barely even noon. I tell him that I'm on my way and then hang up.

"What's going on?" Piper asks.

I don't see I have an option but to tell her the truth. "Something's wrong with Nico. I'm going to head over there now." My voice sounds frantic, and not at all like my own.

She nods. "I'll come too."

I shake my head. "Look, Piper, he sounds pretty freaked out. I don't want to make it worse."

She throws her board down on the ground and puts one foot on it like she's getting ready to go. "I'll wait outside, then. I just want to make sure he's okay. Besides, you never know, you might need my help."

I meet her fierce eyes and see that she's not going to back down, and because I don't want to waste anymore time, I nod. "Okay. Let's go, then."

I throw my board down, step on it, and speed off. She does the same, following loosely behind me.

His house is less than five minutes from the park, but we still race there as fast as we can. The wind ruffles my hair and my clothes and, under different circumstances, it might feel good. But my heart is beating too quickly, and I'm shaking, and there are too many "what ifs" running through my mind.

I get distracted and almost run into a car parked along the sidewalk. I swerve at the last minute, but I'm going too quickly and the force pulls me forward. I break the fall with my elbows, and then roll a few feet away into the middle of the street.

Piper catches up to me and slows to a stop, much more gracefully than I did. She offers a hand to help me up.

I take it, nodding. Once I'm up, I assess the damage: my elbows are scraped up and bleeding, and my jeans are ripped at the knee, but I'm okay.

"Let's keep going."

Piper doesn't question me.

We continue, and don't stop again until we get there.

There's no car in the driveway, and nobody answers when I knock; Nico must be here alone.

I hope he's still okay.

The door opens when I try it.

I turn back to Piper, who's standing in the driveway looking around. She has her arms crossed over her stomach, the way she always does when she's nervous or afraid or upset. I wish I could comfort her, but I need to get to Nico.

"Just wait here for a minute, okay?"

She nods before going to sit down on the curb.

I turn to the door again, take a deep breath in, and enter. The house is, as I expected, seemingly empty. The curtains are drawn to keep the sunlight out, but none of the lights are on. Well, not down here, anyways.

I feel kind of creeped out, so I call Nico's name.

No response.

I head up the stairs, taking three at a time.

His door is closed, but a dim light is shining between the cracks. I hesitate, even after rushing to get here so quickly. I'm scared of what I might find, though I think I already know.

Deep breaths, Jason.

I open the door.

I feel my heart shatter at the sight of him.

He's a crumpled form on a blood-stained bed. His shirt is halfway off, but stuck around his head. One arm is still in his sleeve, but the other is only halfway in. One of them is bleeding. A lot.

He mumbles something nearly unintelligible. I realize that I think he's trying to tell me not to laugh.

And why would I? What happened to make him so afraid of getting kicked while he's down? He's vulnerable, but the last thing I want to do is laugh at him for that. There are a lot of things I want to do right now. Cry. Scream. Hold him. But not laugh. Never that.

"Fucking- son of a bitch. Fucking fuck. Fuck," I hear myself say without really thinking about it.

I go to help him out of his shirt. I sit him up and pull it over his head and- shit.

His chest is covered in scars. Just like the ones on his arms, but there's more. They're deeper. Longer.

Maybe this is worse than I thought. Maybe I should have told someone as soon as I found out.

I decide not to dwell on it, for now. Right now, Nico needs help, and I'm the one here to give it to him. I gently grab his arm to examine it, and-

It's bad.

It's really bad.

Deep breath.

"Shit, Nico. I think these might need stitches."

His half-closed and nearly lifeless eyes flutter open and a cry of protest rises in his throat. "Can't- tell-"

I push him down. I know what he's going to say; he doesn't want his family to find out. I tell him that they don't have to. I don't tell him that I think they might need to.

For now, I can deal with this.

"I know how to- I can do it myself," I begin, growing less confident with every word. "We just- We'll have to go to my house.

I haven't had anyone over since even before my dad left. Other kids seemed to know something was wrong with my mom even before I did. And she almost always said no when I asked, anyways. This time, though, she doesn't have a choice. I'm hoping she'll be sympathetic, given she knows what he's going through; she's the reason I even know how to stitch up wounds in the first place.

The first time I found my mom in need of stitches, I was thirteen. My dad was gone, and I ws alone and scared with no idea what to do. I thought I had no choice but to take her to the hospital, but she refused. Back then, I couldn't have carried her anywhere, and I had no one to drive us. We didn't have a phone at that time, either. I had no options; I was helpless.

Like I had been for the last three years. This was just the worst I had seen her, but it wasn't anything new to me. I was still scared shitless, though, and I had all of this… stuff building up inside of me. That was the moment I realized I could either break down, like I always did, or I could be strong, because my mother needed me to be.

I decided to be strong.

We had this super old, bulky computer at the time that I mostly used for school. The internet ws slow, but it worked. I looked up what to do for her, and then ran to the store around the corner. I had to steal money from our safe, but I got what she needed.

When I stitched her up, I didn't cry. That was the first night in a long time that I didn't. But all the blood made me sick, and I threw up afterwards.

Since, then, I've had a lot of practice. Now, I can do it without even thinking about it.

I just never thought I'd have to do it for Nico.

I tell him to wait where he is and run out the door, down the stairs, and outside to Piper.

"Can you call Reyna? See if she'll pick us up."

She nods, already pulling out her phone before I finish speaking.

"Did he- what did he do?"

"He just- he cut. Deeply."

Her eyes widen. All she does is nod. Then Reyna picks up, and she turns away.

I rush back inside; being away from Nico for even that small amount of time made me nervous. I rummage through all of his upstairs cabinets before finding one with towels. Of course, they're all white. I don't really have it in me to care, though.

I take one to Nico, wrap his arm in it, and instruct him to apply pressure on it. The bleeding is already slowing, which is good. If it didn't, I'd have no choice but to take him to the emergency room.

He looks like he can't hold his eyes open any longer though, so I grab his arm and apply pressure on it for him.

His eyes flutter shut.

If I'm being honest, I don't know that much about first- aid, but letting him fall asleep sounds like a bad idea.

'Nico," I say gently. "I need you to stay away for me. Can you do that?"

He groans, but his eyes open again.

Then he does something that surprises me.

He holds out his hand and reaches for mine. I meet him in the middle.

"Reyna's on her way," I tell him. He looks like he wants to protest, but knows he's not in the position to. I continue. "She's going to drive us to my house. I can fix you up there, okay? You're going to be just fine."

He looks at me like he's lost, or he doesn't quite know where he is. Then he says, "I'm scared."

He starts to cry again, and I let him.

"It's all going to be okay. Don't be scared. I'm here."

That only makes him cry harder, and I don't know what else to say. I don't know how to help him. I don't even know why he did this to himself in the first place, and now doesn't really seem like the time to ask.

We stay like that in silence, for a while, until I hear Reyna's car pull up in the driveway. Her door opens and then slams shut again.

"I'm going to carry you down, okay?" He doesn't really have much of a choice, but it seems better to ask. Fortunately, he nods. I've gotten pretty used to carrying him these last few days.

With difficulty, I manage to scoop him up in my arms without damaging his already injured arm. Then I carry him out of his room, down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door.

Piper gasps when she sees him. "Oh my god…"

Reyna's eyes harden at the sight of him, and her face grows determined. Only those who know her well would be able to see the fear lingering underneath her gaze. She's like me in that; she hardens when things get difficult. We're not like Piper and Nico, who are gentle, and soft, and easily swayed by the whisperings of the wind.

Reyna turns back towards her car and opens the back door. She moves her bag off the seat and gestures for me to put him down inside. I do, as carefully as possible. When I stand up again I hit my head against the roof.

"Are you okay?" Reyna asks, but I brush her off. I ignore the throbbing in my head and walk around the car to the other back door. I climb into the middle seat and let Nico rest against me. He reaches for my hand again, and I take it between both of mine. It's freezing.

He cries the whole way there. So does Piper.

I haven't seen her cry, not like this, for years. Reyna holds her hand over the center console. She makes eye contact with me through the rearview mirror, and I know she understands.

My heart feels like broken glass in my chest. There is so much pain in the world, and it's so hard to see the people you care about the most responsible for feeling a part of it. But when you're the one who has to take care of them, and hold them when they cry, and stitch up their self-inflicted wounds, it's like you can feel all of the world's pain at once. All of the world's pain feels like mine to bear. But that's not true; I only know a tiny fraction of the hurt and the heartbreak. Knowing that only makes it all worse.

But I can't break down now. I have to be the strong one.

We pull up in front of my house and every body turns to look at me. Reyna and Piper know about my mom, and I can sense their apprehension. They've only heard stories.

I get out first and move to get Nico, but Reyna stops me.

"We'll get him," she says. "You go deal with your mother."

Hesitantly, I nod. My mom deserves at least a little bit of forewarning, and I know she's not going to be happy with me. I just hope that today is one of her good days.

Fortunately, it seems to be. She's in the kitchen when I enter, standing over a pan full of meat. She's making tacos. She does this sometimes; she cooks these really nice meals for me, with no intention of eating anything herself. Other times our fridge is completely empty, and there's nothing in the pantry, and the only meal I get all day is the free lunch from school. But today she must be okay. She's actually dressed for the first time in what seems like a long time, though she's wearing clothes too warm for today's weather. She even smiles at me when she sees me.

"Jason," she says. "Just in time. I'm making lunch, and it should be ready soon. Why don't you go clean up-"

Then she gets a good look at me, and knows something is wrong. She's never been the best mother, but she can still read me the way only a mother could. "What's wrong?"

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them back. I just have to be strong for a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer.

"It's my friend," I say, forcing myself to stand tall. "My friend, Nico. He's hurt. He's- he's outside."

She immediately stiffens. Then she turns around, so that her back is facing me. "You couldn't take him to the hospital? Where are his parents?" Her tone is cold, in sharp contrast to her good mood two minutes ago.

"I couldn't, "I say, trying to figure out the words to say. "He's- he's a lot like you, mom. He refuses to let me take him. And his family's all out of town."

There's a knock on the door, but I don't move towards it, even though everything inside of me is screaming to hurt up. My mom turns around and looks me over. After careful consideration, she says, "Well, let him in." Her voice is shaking.

I nod at her, in too much of a hurry to be shocked. I rush to the door. I open it to find Reyna and Piper both supporting Nico, who's standing between them, with his arms thrown over their shoulders.

"This way," I tell them, leading them towards my room. I see all three of them glance at my mom on the way in, but Reyna and Piper try their hardest not to stare. Nico, on the other hand, is too out of it to hide his shock.

I know my mom's appearance is shocking. It still surprises me sometimes, and I live with her. She's nearly as tall as I am, but only 90 pounds; she looks emaciated. Her blonde hair is thin and scraggly, and she has several bald spots, not only because it falls out, but because she pulls it out. If you look closely, you can see that she doesn't have any eyelashes, either. She's wearing long sleeves and pants, so the only scars you can see are three purple ones on her right cheek. It's obvious what they are, though. She did those only earlier this year.

Nico looks up at me questioningly. I shrug. I'll tell him later.

I help Piper and Reyna lower him onto my bed. They both back up immediately, but I don't. I stare at this boy, so broken and small, and dread the task ahead of me. I can feel my heart pounding in my hands, and my throat, and everywhere. I don't know if I can do this. I don't even want to look at him any longer.

I don't have a choice. I'm the only one who can do this.

I head towards the bathroom to wash my hands. To my surprise, on my way out, I run into my mom. In her hands, she holds our makeshift first-aid kid. She offers it to me.

"Uh, thanks," I say, taking it, unsure of what to do. "Thank you. Um, hey, could you go get a washrag and wet it with warm water? And get some soap."

She nods, looking grateful for something to do.

Once I'm back in my room, I set the kit down on my desk. I pull out a needle, and then a lighter from my drawer. I hold the fire to the needle to disinfect it. After, I pour hydrogen peroxide into a small dish and drop the needle inside.

My mom comes back and hands me an old, wet, red washrag, a dry one, and a bar of soap. "Thank you."

She says "you're welcome," with her eyes but not out loud, and then goes to stand in the corner of the room, away from Piper and Reyna, and crosses her arms.

I drag the chair from my desk to the bed.

"Okay?" I ask Nico as I sit down. He nods. Even after all of this he's still lying.

"I'm going to wash your arm off first, okay?

"Okay," he croaks.

I bring the washrag to his skin and he winces. Barely anything comes off with just the water; I have to scrub with the soap to get off all of the dry, cracked blood, despite the look of pain that crosses over his face. I clean it off and then dry it off with the other rag.

Now onto the hard part.

I grab the needle and some thread and sit back down.

As I thread the needle, I ask, "Have you had stitches before?"

He shakes his head. Great. First time getting stitches and it's from an amateur.

"I don't have anything to numb your arm with, so it's going to hurt. We can still take you to the hospital, if you want. You can still change your mind."

"No," he says. "Just get it over with," he pleads.

I nod. "Okay. Okay."

Deep breath.

He gasps when the needle goes in, and his eyes fill with tears all over again.

I stop. "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Keep going," he says through gritted teeth.

I don't know what else to do, so I do. Every time the needle goes through, he whimpers. By the third time, tears stream continuously down his face, and he looks so helpless, that I can't help but feeling it's my fault. I'm hurting him. This guilt takes over me, and it's almost unbearable. I can almost stop my hands from shaking, and there are several times that I have to blink back tears from blurring my vision. It hurts to see him like this. I go slowly, though, for fear I'll mess up. When I finally tie off the last not, relief floods through my body.

I'm done. It's okay, he's okay.

But something inside me still feels broken.

Piper comes up and puts her hand on my shoulder, but I brush it off, standing up.

"I'm just- I'm gonna go get some air."

I walk out of my room and out the front door.

Then I run.