This morning, he seemed worse than usual, taking two bites of toast before throwing it out the window for the birds. Despite the heat, he'd stolen one of my sweatshirts, almost drowning in the fabric but seemingly comforted by it. It wasn't quite office attire, but I knew better than to question it by this point.
The hug he gave me before he left lasted a little longer than usual. "...I love you..." he mumbled into me.
"I love you too," I murmured, running my fingers through his hair as I squeezed him. "I'll come and see you on your break, and we can go for lunch?" Mostly, I was just seeking reassurance that he was okay half way through the day. Not that a lunch date wouldn't be nice.
He nodded, standing on his toes to kiss me. A worried smile spread across his face as I brushed my thumb across his cheek, holding his face in my hand as I brought our lips together again.
.
.
I left earlier than I needed to, knowing full well I'd have to wait a little while for him. It didn't matter to me; the gut feeling of something being wrong wouldn't shift, and I just wanted to be with him again. There was still fifteen minutes to spare as I parked, and I decided to risk heading inside, not wanting to roast sitting in the car. Considering he knew I was coming, I was pretty sure Carlisle wouldn't be upset with me for being there this time.
I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing. The bigger man had pinned him against the wall in the hallway, leaning down to kiss him. Carlisle turned his face away before he could, but he roughly grabbed his cheek and forced him to look at him. He shoved his mouth against his, biting his lip and letting his hands wander down his body. It was over after a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I was frozen in the doorway, wanting to deck the guy but unable to move.
"Back to work, Cullen," he told him, smirking. The kiss he placed on his forehead was visibly belittling, and my boyfriend sank into himself to get away.
Holding his breath, he just nodded, struggling to keep his composure and sort of leaning against the closest desk as his legs shook. His cheeks were stinging with heat and he kept his head down.
The man brought his hand down hard against his ass as he began to walk away, grinning to himself. It had been violent enough that Carlisle had jumped forward a little, blushing hard. Humiliated tears overflowed, and he ducked his head.
"The boss's whore," the receptionist muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he saw it too. "What a job."
Carlisle bolted to the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind him.
I finally got my legs to work, quickly following him and bursting through the door just in time to watch him vomit into the sink. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?" I asked frantically, pulling him into me.
"I'm sorry- I'm really sorry, Garrett- I didn't want to, but he made me-"
"I know, I know, Carlisle, I'm not mad at you," I soothed, rubbing his shoulder as I hugged him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Holding my hand against his cheek, I brushed away the few tears that fell with my thumb.
Shaking and looking ill, he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling himself up to bury his face in my shoulder. "...sorry..." he mumbled again.
"I'll take you home, where's your jacket?" I traced circles against the small of his back, hating the way he trembled. Everywhere the brute of a man had touched his was still red from his hands, and I wondered if it was going to turn to bruises.
He just shook his head, struggling to compose himself enough to leave the bathroom. "...he's not going to let me go," he told me quietly, wiping his face dry. "Not until six..."
"He's not going to have a choice, we could call the police-"
"I need this job, Garrett," he interrupted quickly. "I can't do that..."
"But this can't keep happening, Carlisle," I argued. "You're going to have to tell someone. Whose in the position above him? Could you go to them?"
He just shook his head, pulling away to fold his arms. "...it doesn't matter...it's just a kiss; it's not a big deal, right?" He was sort of pleading with me, nibbling his lip until he drew blood.
"It's abusive; it is a big deal." I was fighting down frustration; I didn't like that he was trying to downplay the whole thing, but I knew he was terrified and was just trying to cope. "Tell him you're not feeling well, and that you need to go home."
"I-I can't, Garrett..." His words caught in his throat, fighting crying.
"Carlisle."
"I can't!"
"You have to; you can't stay here in this state anyway, for god's sake." My words were too harsh, and he shrunk back again.
"...I'm scared..."
"He can't punish you for being sick." I ran my hand through my hair, sighing through my teeth. "Please?"
Eventually, he nodded and slowly made his way out of the bathroom. I watched his confidence shrink away as he approached the man again, and he shifted uncomfortably as he waited for him to turn around.
He was frowning as he turned to face him, but it lifted into a smile once he realised it was Carlisle behind him. "Did you miss me, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his paw grabbing at his waist.
Carlisle stiffened, his shoulders becoming rigid. "...I feel really sick...can I please go home? I can still finish my assignment, and..."
His eyebrows knitted together. "You're not trying to get away from me, are you, Carlisle?"
He swallowed thickly, his hands shaking. "N-no, I just...I don't feel good..." Thankfully, he did actually look rather unwell; cheeks flushed and pale, his hair starting to stick to his face no matter how many times he pushed it back.
Watching him carefully, he relented after a minute. "Alright, you can go. Take the time that you need, my love." He leaned down to kiss his cheek, much to his obvious discomfort. I was pretty sure that he was being purposefully patronising, and he seemed to be getting the effect that he wanted; if the pet names were an attempt to force my boyfriend into submission, it was definitely working. Watching him walk back to me, his frowned grew. "Carlisle?"
"Yes, sir?" He froze with his back turned, his eyes locked on mine and pleading for help I couldn't give him as I kept myself hidden behind the wall.
"Remember what we talked about; watch what you eat," he told him sharply. "And don't you dare say anything to that boyfriend of yours."
Heat flooded his face again, and he ducked his head as he nodded. Instead of coming to me, he walked straight past me, wanting to get outside.
"Carlisle," I interrupted, speeding up to get to his side.
"I'll walk," he mumbled, prickly toward my presence.
"What'd he do to you this morning? What's he talking about?" I pressed once we were out the doors.
"Nothing, Garrett, leave it."
"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be about to cry." I tried to catch his hand, but he wouldn't let me.
"I'm not." His voice broke anyway.
"What'd he say to you?"
"Nothing."
"Carlisle," I groaned, watching him go in the opposite direction of the car park. "Just get in the car."
"I don't want to talk about it; I'm not driving with you if you're just going to interrogate me all the way home!"
"Fine, I'll leave it, but get in the car; you're not walking in this state."
"Maybe the exercise will get him off my back," he grumbled, looking hurt.
It pulled me up short. "Hey...he's picking on you about your weight?" I asked softly, holding his wrist. It had made him freeze, and he didn't know what to do. "That's not fair; does he want you to gain it or lose it?" Some stupid part of me was hopeful that this might get him eating again, even if it was out of fear of his manager.
"...lose it…" Picking at his fingers, he was drawing blood, unable to look at me.
My stomach sank instantly. "You can't afford to do that, Carlisle, you never gained the weight back after you were sick. You can't do that-"
"It doesn't matter." He pulled his hand out of mine, annoyed.
"Yes it does; of course it does! For fuck's sake, if you stop eating because of him, I'm going to lose my mind," I groaned.
He cut me off, drawing into himself. "Leave it."
"I can't; I love you. Is that what this is about? You want to hide from him?" I tugged his sweatshirt lightly, and he snatched the fabric out of my hands. "You're underweight, Carlisle, jesus. You can't honestly believe that-"
"Stop it! I can't handle him reminding me I'm disgusting and you wanting me to do the opposite that he tells me! It hurts enough that he gets to touch me wherever he wants all day and I can't stop him and I don't want you to be upset with me too," he exploded at me suddenly, effectively startling everybody in earshot. Humiliated, he just wrapped his arms around himself, hyperventilating and trying to ignore that people were watching us now.
"Come and get in the car, Carlisle," I coaxed, wrapping my arm around his waist and slowly guiding him back toward the car park. I hugged him once we were far enough away from everyone to stop them looking at us, squeezing him tightly.
He didn't push me away this time, leaning against me and letting me keep him against my chest. "...sorry..."
"Stop apologising, please," I sighed, pressing a kiss against his neck. "I love you. I love you so much."
.
.
I called in sick for him for the rest of the week, managing to get him five days off, including his weekend. His manager sounded a little put out, but not entirely pissed that he wasn't coming in.
Carlisle relaxed a little bit once I told him, suddenly looking ten times more exhausted. He hadn't bothered getting dressed today, curling up on the couchin what he had been wearing in bed. It was pointless, really; he should have stayed in bed and he was already falling asleep.
I threw a blanket over him, wrapping him in it. "Stay there, Carlisle," I murmured quietly as he fidgeted, glancing up at me. Folding my feet under myself as I sat, I fell into the seat next to him, pulling his legs over my lap. "Are you going to be okay if I go to work?" Considering the time off I'd already had recently, I couldn't really afford to be taking any more, and it would take some serious string pulling for my boss to agree to it.
"I'll be alright," he told me, offering a somewhat awkward smile. "I really am fine, Garrett…"
"I'm worried about you," I admitted, squeezing his thigh gently. "With everything that's happening-"
"It was just a kiss." Suddenly blatantly uncomfortable, he froze, unable to look at me.
"It's more than that, and you know it." The silence in the room was unbearable, and I leaned forward to kiss him, trying to ease his nerves, but he turned away slightly, not wanting it. "I don't want you to be sitting here alone and feeling like crap all day."
"I'll be okay. Really. I've got work to do anyway, so I can't sit around moping. It'll be fine." Sighing quietly, he finally glanced up to meet my gaze. "I'll tell you when you have to worry, Gar."
.
.
Politely asking Alistair to check on him wasn't the same as telling him anything. In my head, anyway. It didn't take much of a plea on my behalf to get him to go and see Carlisle on his day off, and I was overly relieved; this was day three of him being home by himself, and I was sure he got worse every time I came back. Hopefully his best friend could be a distraction.
My phone vibrated against my desk a few hours later, and I snatched it down into my lap to avoid getting caught. I'd hoped it would have been Carlisle, but Alistair's name was on my screen.
'What's going on?'
I thought for a moment, trying to form a response. God knows, it was related to my boyfriend. 'He's pretty down. Thanks for going.'
'I'll stay until you get home.'
Thank fucking god for Alistair. It made me feel a bit better knowing that he was supervised; I didn't want to my boy left to his own devices when he wasn't feeling well.
Knowing that he was safe didn't make the hours pass any faster though. It seemed like fucking forever before I was allowed to go home, and I tried not to throw open the front door on the way in to our apartment.
Carlisle greeted me in the kitchen, kissing me quickly and pulling back with a frown. "A baby sitter, Garrett?" he asked, almost teasing but definitely unimpressed.
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," I defended, catching his waist. Wrapping my arms around him, I squeezed him gently.
"I'm fine, Garrett, I told you. It's not a big deal," he mumbled.
Alistair was standing a few feet away, sternly shaking his head at him. "Don't even try it, Cullen. I'm not blind, and from what I can gather, Garrett is not an idiot. As much as I like seeing you, I don't want to have to come around here to watched over you because your boyfriend is afraid to leave you alone. Someone who's fine doesn't drink themselves sick within the first hour of getting to a bar, when they were supposed to spend the night with their friends You are not fine."
That must have hurt, but Carlisle didn't react to his words. I couldn't help it, though, quickly coming to his defense. "That wasn't his fault; we had to spend the night in A&E because he reacted to the alcohol."
"Garrett," my boyfriend groaned, annoyed I'd said anything about it.
Alistair muttered through his teeth. "For fucks sake, you don't tell me anything anymore. You need to sort your shit out, Carlisle. And, Jesus, answer the texts I send you." He pushed his way past us and out the front door, offering me a tight smile.
Defeated, Carlisle just nodded, looking a little sad. We stood in silence for a moment before he managed to speak again. "I'm going to bed."
"It's not even six o'clock, Carlisle," I argued, trying to catch hold of his waist.
"I don't care…" he mumbled, managing to evade me grabbing him and disappearing down the hallway.
With a sigh, I chose just to get something to eat and leave him alone. Smothering him wasn't going to do either of us any good, and the concept of 'you need to talk to the people who care about you' obviously wasn't going to catch on very quickly.
.
.
Unsurprisingly, Carlisle was still awake when I got into bed, and glanced up at me. I smiled, and leaned down to kiss him, fairly certain that he was trying to gauge whether I was upset with him or not. He wrapped his arms around my neck, holding me there a second.
"Let me get changed, and then I'll lie down," I assured him, loosening his hold on me.
He watched me fuss about, waiting until I was on the opposite side of the room before he spoke. "...I think Alistair is right…" he mumbled.
"About what?" I was only half listening, focused on finding something comfortable to wear instead.
"...About me...that I'm not okay…"
That caught my attention, and I quickly looked over at him. He was picking at his fingers, his hands in his lap. "I know, Carlisle," I told him softly, sitting back on the bed and wrapping his hands in my own. Already, I could see that he was worried about saying that much, panicking over the consequence of telling me. "But it's alright." I squeezed his fingers.
He was quiet for a moment, his breaths shallow and fast, before eventually continuing. "...I don't feel well, a-and I can't breathe when I go to work, a-and…"
I didn't want to press him, but I had to while he was giving me the opportunity, even though it was only going to upset him."What'd you mean, you're not well? Are you still sick?" Wanting him to be okay with talking, I wrapped my arms around him, slowly rubbing his back as he leaned against me.
It seemed to help a little bit, and he relaxed slightly. "...I don't know...I get dizzy all the time, and I feel really sick...a-and I'm always cold…" He was right; he was freezing, even in my arms.
I gently brought my lips to his, brushing my fingers through his hair. "Does this have anything to do with what's happening at work?" Feeling his body stiffen, and seeing tears welling up, I squeezed him a little tighter. That was enough of an answer. "How far does he go with you?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know, really, but I couldn't just leave it.
He swallowed thickly, drawing into himself. "...however far he feels like that day…"
Feeling nauseous, I tried to shove down a wave of anger, but he interrupted before I had to ask.
"H-he never makes me undress, Garrett, it isn't like that," he told me quickly.
I breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing as he leaned his cheek against my chest. "He doesn't hurt you?" When he shook his head, I only half believed him; even if he didn't physically do anything, his words were obviously stinging.
.
.