Not very long, but I like it. Hope you do too!
Warnings: Anorexia/Bulimia. Some cuss words and talk of homosexual relationships.
I own nothing. Please, review! Tell me what you think!
"Hey, Wes," Travis smiled walking into my hospital room, "What's up?"
Looking up from the book I was reading I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I had been stuck in this room for the past four days trying to get healthy. For the first two days I thought that meant my body, but I knew better now.
They kept me here because they were worried about my mind. Worried about what I was doing to myself. Which I, of course, fought. Until the Captain pointed out I'd lose my job if I didn't get help
So I was stuck here until my shrink and Dr. Ryan decided I could leave. That didn't mean much though. My leaving just meant an out-patient program until I was actually healthy. I thought it was all crap.
I didn't eat when I was stressed. Would they rather I did the opposite and overate? That I was three hundred pounds with all these health problems so I couldn't do my job? It wasn't my fault everyone was overreacting.
The overreacting mostly went to Travis though. He'd show up everyday and give me this look like he thought I'd have disappeared while he was gone. It wasn't like I could go anywhere. I wanted my job back too much.
I just had to convince these people that I was fine. It shouldn't be all that difficult. Nothing was actually wrong with me. I just didn't eat when I was stressed. It wasn't that uncommon of a thing.
"Travis," I spoke as patiently as I could, "You don't have to show up everyday or stay here for hours. I'm fine."
"The treatment's working?" Travis questioned.
"Yeah. Sure. It's helping a lot."
"Really? Because I know you, Babe, and that was sarcastic as hell. What's up?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
Travis placed the bag he brought on the chair next to the bed before moving closer to me. He stared at me in confusion his eyes darting over my body until they landed on my face.
The eyes bore into mine for a few moments until they widened slightly. They usually only did that when he solved part of a case and a cocky smirk was usually there too. There was no smirk this time.
No, the only thing on the older man face was anger. Where did he get off being angry at me? It's not like he was the one locked up in a hospital against his will being told just how 'sick' he was. This was ridiculous. I wasn't the bad guy in this situation. I didn't need to be here!
"Please tell me you realize you're sick," Travis spoke his voice deathly calm.
"Travis…" I started.
"You're anorexic, Wes."
"No, I just don't eat when I'm stressed. That's all."
"So you become a lawyer than a cop. Good job staying away from stress. Going to be a doctor next?"
"Travis."
"No, this is brilliant, Wes. A real breakthrough. You barely keep food down for two weeks and when I find you with your fingers down your throat you're so out of it you sit there like you have no idea what's going on or who I am. You're barely 120 and according to your doctor you're still having trouble eating. But you know that's perfectly find. Healthy even."
"I'm not anorexic. Anorexic people starve themselves because they think skinny is beautiful or something like that. I don't. I just…"
"Have an unnatural need for control. I got that. And I honestly don't care why other people do it. I care that my partner is doing it"
"You're overreacting."
"Overreacting? I'm overreacting? Okay, next time when this whole thing happens again and you die I'll make sure everyone that's crying and mourning your death know they're overreacting."
"I'm not…"
"Or when you're in the hospital next time and I have to tell people you're sick I'll just forget. Because you're not sick. Not at all."
"You don't have…"
"Or you…"
"I'm not sick!"
"Yes you are! And you'll die if you don't admit it!"
"I. Am. Not. Sick."
"Damn it, Wes. Who messed you up this badly?"
Glaring at the older man I turned away and tried to ignore what he said. I wasn't messed up. Okay, so I was a little messed up, but not sick. Anyway, how can people who aren't there mess you up?
Travis is just being his normal idiotic self. Jumping to conclusions without facts just like he always did. The idiot had no idea what he was talking about and yet he wasn't going to shut up.
"Do you want to die, Wes?" Travis whispered sitting on the edge of my bed.
"What?" I asked staring at the man, "What kind of question is that?"
"Answer me. Do you want to die?"
"Of course not."
"Do you want to not be my partner anymore?"
"Travis. Yes, I want to be your partner."
"Do you want to break my heart?"
"What are you…"
"Because that's what you're doing. This is killing you. Is taking you from me and you don't care. I love you Wes, but I can't be here and watch you kill yourself. Please. Don't make me leave."
Staring at my partner I saw this sadness in his eyes that I had never seen before, but it was the thing under the sadness that had my heart freezing. I saw that what he was saying was the truth.
Travis would leave if I kept doing this. But my partner…Travis would never leave me. No matter how much we tried to hurt each other with words or how many times we threw punches and kicks neither of us thought about leaving.
He was…This whole thing…There was something wrong with me. Travis wouldn't leave unless he really thought he was going to lose me. And I couldn't…I couldn't not have Travis in my life.
"Okay," I whispered staring at him, "I'll…I will try. Just don't…Please don't leave."