Trigger warning for anyone who doesn't like darkish mental health stuff, see you in the next chapter.
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"Promise me, Garrett."
"You're being crazy, you know," I teased lightly, trying to worm my way out of the conversation before I was late to work. We'd talked about this over and over again, both this morning and the night before, but he wasn't about to relent. He'd barely slept last night before he was so worked up over it. I sighed, surrendering, my hand brushing across his jaw as I leaned down to kiss him.
He jerked back before our lips met. "Don't."
"For fuck's sake, Carlisle, I promise. I promise I'm not going to see her," I grumbled, a little hurt by his reaction. He'd spent the whole weekend attached to me, so I wasn't sure what brought on his rejection now. "What's wrong with you this morning?"
"You cheated on me and you're lying, that's what's wrong," he snapped, shoving my arm away when I tried again to touch him.
I groaned at him, rolling my eyes. "I have to pick up Kate. What do you want me to do? Carmen and Eleazar are paying me to do this, remember-"
"I'd rather pick up the extra slack for the bills than you be anywhere near her!" Seething, his fingers were around the untouched mug of coffee in his hands so tightly his knuckles were white.
"You can barely work at the moment, don't be stupid. I'm going to pick my niece up from school, nothing else," I huffed. We'd been over this. Over and over it. "Stop it and go and calm down before you throw up." My response certainly didn't help things; he slammed the door shut again when I tried to open it, physically blocking me from leaving. "I have to go to work, and you have to get out of the way. I'm not even going to speak to her, but I'm going to be pissed if you make me late with this. We've had this conversation."
Still unconvinced, he cursed at me and stalked away, slamming the bedroom door so hard the shelves rattled. No doubt I'd be walking back into this if I was more than a second late this afternoon.
I tried not to be upset with him as I drove to work. Aside from how rocky we were at the moment, he really wasn't feeling well, and I doubted his general level of anxiety helped. That didn't stop it from shocking me whenever he yelled at me. This morning really hadn't gone well. I vented to Riley about it on my lunch break, giving in to telling him out of desperation for someone to talk to. Carlisle had Alistair, but as much as I tried to convince myself that it was fair, it still felt like I was doing something wrong.
He laughed when I told him about the argument, stifling it when I scolded him for it. "Jesus, Garrett, I thought women were bad, but he's kind of fitting the 'crazy bitch' stereotype right now," he teased.
A pang of guilt hit me when I remembered essentially calling him that before I'd left. It wasn't great that our last words to each other were mean, and it was going to take me hows of grovelling to get out of the hole I'd dug myself. "He's not, Riley, he's just upset and sick. He's not easy to deal with at the moment, but I can't really blame him for it. We had a nice weekend, before this morning."
His joking faded. "You're kind of a jerk, you know."
"I'm well aware, Riley, he's not going to let me forget about it any time soon."
"You two aren't breaking up, though?"
"Not if I can help it. I think he just needs time." I hoped, anyway.
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I was nervous to see Heidi again. My heart was racing as I drove to the school after work, fidgeting with my hands in my pockets as I went to get my niece. A wave of relief washed over me as I got into the classroom and saw a substitute in her place at the front. Thank fucking god. Picking up Kate was painless, but I sped a bit driving her back to her parents; I didn't want her to be witness to my boyfriend in an utter state, but I also didn't want to give him any reason to doubt me by being late. By some fortune, I managed to get home a few minutes early, breathing a sigh of relief.
I felt like I'd stepped into a hurricane. Carlisle had launched into berating me the second I was through the front door, throwing my keys back at my chest when I tried to put them down and hurling a tsunami of verbal abuse in my direction before I could even shut it behind me. "The neighbours are going to call the cops, talk to me like an adult," I snapped at him.
"Get out, Garrett! You're a piece of shit; you lied to me!" he exploded. He'd obviously had too long to stew over whatever was upsetting him now. He looked dizzy, stumbling a little as he tried to get away from me, pale. This wasn't doing him any favours.
"You have to calm down, Carlisle, you're going to make yourself sick," I warned. "For god's sake; I didn't do whatever you think I have, please just calm down. Heidi wasn't even there today, I haven't seen her since you got back." I'd never seen him get this worked up before; if I thought he was angry with me before, this was a whole other kettle of fish. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"I hate you- I fucking hate you!" He was going to faint if he didn't stop to take a breath. "She knows where we live- you brought her here! You promised me!" The piece of fabric he shoved at me didn't make sense immediately, but my stomach dropped through my feet once it did.
"Stop," I pleaded again. "This isn't good for you-"
"You're not good for me- I'm not doing this- I'm fucking done- one of us has to go." Suddenly, he was out of my face, stalking down the hallway.
The sweatshirt Heidi had taken. The one I'd assumed I'd never see again. Confused about what the fuck just happened, I stood in the kitchen in shock for a few minutes, blankly staring at the door he'd just slammed until it sunk in. She'd been here again. She'd returned it. And spoken to Carlisle, obviously. We were fucked. I didn't know how I was going to get him to listen to me now, and I was a little scared to face him, frozen where I was. There was no way she hadn't embellished everything if she hadn't straight up lied to him.
I turned to the mail on the bench, stalling as I tried to calm my heart rate. I wasn't sure how I was going to get him to listen to me now, how I was going to prove to him that whatever he thought was happening certainly wasn't. It was mostly junk, a few bills thrown in for good measure, but a crumpled letter caught my attention. The paper was softened, like he'd screwed it up and smoothed it several times.
It was a bill, a rejection from his health insurance for some of the tests the hospital had run, and what he'd need to pay to get anything stronger than tylenol when he tried to get his prescription from the pharmacy next. With that and Heidi, it was no wonder he was losing his mind. I felt like I was going to throw up - he was in absolutely no state to try and handle this on his own.
"Carlisle, we need to talk," I called down the hallway. I stopped outside of the bathroom door, my hand hovering above the door handle - I didn't think he'd be too pleased with me for barging in. "We can figure this out; I haven't spoken to her, she's lying to you. Can we talk about your insurance, please?" No response. The silent treatment certainly didn't feel good. Worse, seeming as he was punishing me for something I was sure I hadn't done. "Are you alright?"
Still no answer. Fine. I stalked back into the bedroom to wait out the storm, already knowing he wasn't done with this. Lying back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling, folding my arms under my head. This whole situation was making me nauseous; I had no idea how to get him to believe me now that the trust between us had been shattered. My stomach was in knots over it.
I wasn't sure why I wanted to check on him so badly. I hated his silence, but it wasn't unexpected considering what was happening. Eventually, I still couldn't stand it, sitting up to put my feet on the floor. "Carlisle," I said again. "You okay?" When he still ignored me, I went to the door again, contemplating how much trouble I'd be in for opening it. I was already in the doghouse so I didn't think it could actually get worse.
Sighing, I bit the bullet. I turned the door knob and carefully pushed it open. "Hey, you're freaking me out; can you just-" The sentence dissolved on my tongue.
There was blood everywhere, and I felt like I was reliving the nightmare drive home from the airport all over again. "Oh fuck- are you sick again?"
Barely conscious and sitting in a quickly growing pool, he mumbled a quiet 'no'. I tried to fight back the growing panic, reminding myself that he'd survived last time, and we just had to get to the hospital again. No doubt he'd stressed himself out enough to cause another belt of whatever this was. I started to explain that to him, reaching to start to pull him to his feet, but we both froze as I closed my hands around his wrists.
Something was very, very wrong.
I threw up into the sink as my hands came away wet and red after touching his sleeves, the soaked fabric slipping against his skin and making my vision warp. I felt dizzy, a chill running through my spine and breaking me out in a cold sweat.
He wasn't sick. Or at least, he wasn't vomiting. That wasn't the source of the blood. Trying to get a grip, I knelt down, steeling my stomach before tearing up his sleeves. Half resisting me and half pleading that he didn't want the hospital again, he tried to jerkl back.
"What'd you do?" I cried to him, the room blurred by tears. The gashes were deep, but it was hard to see just how deep while he was bleeding so much. It was a stupid question; I knew damn well what he'd done, what he was trying to do but wasn't coherent enough to finish. The razor blade he still had his hand wrapped around was enough evidence.
He mumbled for me to stop it, trying to pull his arms away from me. I grabbed the closest towel, wrapping it around the wound and squeezing so tightly my hands ached. All of my hopes dissolved as I realised I was fighting a losing battle; this wasn't working.
Rushing for the first aid kit in the kitchen, I tried to make sense of the plasters and bandages, grabbing something at random to tape the cut and get some pressure on it. The panic gave way to numbness as I realised he'd done it to the other arm as well, repeating the process. "Where else, Carlisle? What else did you do?" I was sure I was hurting him, I was squeezing his wrists so tightly. It was a little comforting that blood didn't immediately gush through the fabric. "What the hell were you thinking?" I knew what he was thinking, and it made it all the worse.
"...was going to pull my staples, and I thought that it would…" He was so despondent that he wasn't making much sense. "I got too dizzy."
"I've got to take you to the hospital; you need stitches." The feeling in my fingertips faded as something else dawned on me. "Did you swallow anything?" Frantic, I tried to remember what position the pill bottles on the counter had been in the last time I'd been in the bathroom, but I couldn't tell. If he'd messed with them, he'd also corrected them.
He shook his head.
I didn't believe him for a second.
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We spent three hours in the after hours clinic while they patched him up. The nurses rebanaged his stomach and stitched up his arms, not commenting on his obviously fake excuses and eventually dropping trying to make him go to the ER. The only reason I hadn't taken him there in the first place was because I desperately didn't want to fight with him. It didn't help that he would barely speak to them. I'd concluded that he'd lied to me too; he had taken something, and it wasn't sitting well. I was too scared to say anything about it to the nurses and just took him home again.
"Are you going to do that again, if you're left alone?" I asked cautiously. I reached for him, drawing my hand back before we made contact as we sat in the car together. It was difficult to straighten my head out enough to start the vehicle, let alone get us safely on the road again.
He sat there in silence for an agonisingly long time, finally prompted when I said his name again. It seemed to snap him back into reality. "I can't do this, Garrett. I'm so tired. I give up; everything is hurting, my health insurance is trying to drop me, I hate my job, I can't get citizenship and it's expensive to stay here and all of that was worth it when I had you, but now it's all pointless and you're lying to me, and Al is so far away and I can't tell him anyway because he'll just worry-"
I sighed through my teeth, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel for a few seconds to avoid him. "Don't get upset, but I did call Alistair. He's coming to stay for a couple of days; his flight lands in a few hours. You have to come to the airport with me; I'm not comfortable leaving you home while you're set on hurting yourself." Alistair had been surprisingly calm when I'd called him, booking tickets while he was on the phone with me and politely ignoring that I was seconds away from losing my shit. I'd made the most of the opportunity when I'd been kicked out of the treatment room, and he'd been the only person I could think of that would possibly make any of this better.
More silence. Definitely not impressed. "Why did you tell him?"
"Carlisle, you just slit your wrists and swallowed god knows what - and don't say you didn't, because I know you've taken something - what the hell else was I supposed to do?! It was either that, or commit you to a psych ward. Which is still an option by the way, so don't try anything else." My throat burned from screaming at him, my entire body shaking with pent up adrenaline, tears building up. "For fucks sake, what did you want to happen? What good was doing that shit supposed to do? Are you insane?"
He didn't respond, pressing his cheek against the window and shutting down again. "You're an asshole."
"I know, you've told me," I reminded him flatly. Annoyed by his fidgeting with his phone, I roughly snatched it out of his hands, throwing it behind his seat. I knew I shouldn't be chewing him out for what happened; we both knew what he'd tried to do, what he would have gotten away with if I hadn't barged in.
"I mean it," he snapped back.
"You have a bleeding disorder, Carlisle, you could have died," I yelled, my voice cracking as the lump in my throat swelled.
"That was the fucking point, Garrett!" he hissed back. He refused to speak to me again until we got back to our apartment, and even then it was involuntary. The blood loss hadn't served him well after the incident with his stomach, and he was unsteady on his feet, falling back into the vehicle as he tried to get out of the car. Despite not coping on his own, he still slapped my hand away. "Don't touch me."
All of the shock had drained out of me, replaced with a heavy sadness. Even more so while I could see how much I'd hurt him in the last ten minutes. "I just want to help you, Carlisle," I told him tiredly. "Come on."
"You just finished yelling at me- it's like living with my father again," he burst out suddenly. Swallowing didn't stop him from panicking, and I felt like I couldn't do anything as he dissolved.
I crouched in front of him, wincing at the way he flinched when my hands landed on his knees. "I'm sorry I scared you, but I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not mad at you; it just frightened me that things got that far, and I love you, and I hate that you feel like you want to hurt yourself." My words wobbled, and I was fighting the burning in my eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you. Let's go upstairs."
Eventually, he nodded, letting me help him upright. He accepted my arm around his waist as we made our way into the building, needing to hold onto my wrist to keep himself steady anyway. The woman in the elevator with us politely ignored that he was still hyperventilating, and I was really starting to fail at keeping it together.
"Lie down on the couch; you need to stay where I can keep an eye on you," I said, trying not to let on how upset I was. I didn't want whatever he had taken to hurt him while he was out of sight.
"You lied to me," he mumbled. He sat down like I'd told him to, wrapping his arms around his knees. "You lied to me after you promised that you wouldn't."
"I didn't, Carlisle, I didn't see her- how could I have been with her if she was here?" I reasoned. "What'd she say to you?"
"Why'd she have your sweatshirt?" He completely bypassed the question, hiding his expression from me.
"She wore it once when we were, uh, together, and I didn't think she was going to give it back. I didn't want it back." I felt dumb for forgetting about it - of course that bitch was going to try and fuck with him. Part of me suspected that she'd planned it just to torment him after I'd tried to tell her no; she'd been far too interested in our relationship, and asked me far too much about him. "I really didn't see her today, and I didn't see her while you were sick. I'm not lying about that."
Quiet as he tried to process it, he just leaned his forehead on his legs. "Alistair is actually coming? I wish you hadn't told him," he mumbled.
I sighed, slouching in a chair across from him. "Yeah, he should be on the plane by now. Are you, uh, feeling okay enough to sit in the car for the drive to the airport? I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone after that."
"I don't want to be by myself," he admitted. "I'm really scared."
"You're scared? Carlisle, you scared the absolute shit out of me. If you'd died on that bathroom floor, what was I…" It felt selfish, wrong for thinking like that, for blaming him.
"I don't know- I don't want to die, Garrett, I just don't know what to do." His voice broke, and he refused to look up at me. "I feel so trapped." Trying to smother how upset he actually was about all of this, he forced himself to breathe, shoving his hands under his thighs to hide them shaking. It didn't work particularly well.
"Do you want some water or something?" I offered. It was the only thing I could give him in the way of comfort, despite how desperate I was to comfort him.
"I need a hug. Please."
"From me?" I asked dumbly. I was the absolute last person, except maybe Heidi, that he'd want near him right now. "You want me to hug you?"
He nodded hesitantly. "I don't care who it's from, I just need…please..."
"I love you. I'm sorry you're hurting." Sitting next to him, I wrapped my arms carefully around his shoulders, not entirely trusting how much intimacy he thought he wanted. He was obviously unstable, and it didn't feel like a good idea. Still, he leaned against me, apparently needing comfort more than he hated me. I was sure all of this would be over as soon as we got to the airport.
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Alistair dropped everything he was holding the minute he laid eyes on us - phone and all crashing to the floor. He rushed forward, throwing his arms around Carlisle and pulling him to his chest, ignoring me entirely. "You should have called me. Are you okay?" The words rushed out before he could stop them, tangling together. It didn't go over my head that I should have reacted like that - loving instead of angry. I really shouldn't have yelled at him.
"I'm sorry, Al," he whispered into his shoulder, slowly coiling his arms around his neck, the tears he'd struggled against the entire trip to the airport finally overwhelming him. "I miss you."
"I miss you too." Alistair coughed to cover his voice breaking, but he held it together enough to push Carlisle back a little. "Let's get you home." His hand brushed his cheek, and I looked away as Carlisle involuntarily leaned against his palm.
"Okay," he said quietly. He looked nervous as soon as the contact between them was broken, anxious as Al went to retrieve his bags from the floor.
I held out my hand, taking the suitcase from him. He glanced at me, giving me a grim smile that turned down at the corners as he passed it to me, his free arm immediately draped around Carlisle's shoulders. "Look after him," I murmured, swallowing to stop myself telling him to take his hands off him.
The arm drifted, around his waist now, guiding him closer to his side. "Let's get home."
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The drive home was painful. Finally admitting to having taken far more of his painkillers than he should have, Carlisle was feeling incredibly nauseous, disorientated and upset and trying not to vomit the entire way. I dug my fingernails into the steering wheel while Alistair tried to calm him down again. It seemed like an entirety before we got home. "What'd he take? Should we go to the hospital?" Al asked me, harshly nudging Carlisle as he started to fall asleep.
"He wouldn't tell me, and he wouldn't let me take him either," I told him, clenching my jaw.
"Jesus," he groaned.
He threw up in the carpark, pushing away my hands when I tried to steady him. Alistair was allowed, though, gently guiding him inside and sitting him on the couch. "Feel better?" he asked as he crouched down in front of him. "Do you want some water?"
"Yes, please." Pale, he lay down against the cushions, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm really sorry, Al."
"I know, I'm not blaming you, Carlisle" Squeezing his shoulder, he got up, going into the kitchen.
I followed him slowly, closing the door to the longue and leaning my back against it. "Um, Alistair? I'll, um, I'll go to my brother's place for the night, so you two can, uh…"
He slammed the glass down on the bench, sighing and glaring up at the roof. "What the fuck happened, Garrett? He told me you had cheated, but he didn't sound like he was going to fucking kill himself last time we spoke," he spat. "What'd you do?"
"Not what he thinks- I-" I forced myself to breathe for a second, not wanting to make this worse for either of us. There wasn't another option than for me to tell him the truth. "I'd been sleeping with my niece's teacher, and I was with her the night before Carlisle was supposed to fly home from your place, and I was in a rush that morning, and I didn't realise that she'd left lipstick on my collar. And she'd taken one of my sweatshirts - she brought it back yesterday, and he was home alone, and I don't know what she told him, but I haven't seen her since he landed at the airport, and I don't think he believes me- I don't want him to think that I've been with her. I love him, Alistair."
"Then why did you cheat?" he seethed. "Of all people you could have done that to, why did it have to be Carlisle? Don't you think he's been through enough?"
I felt sick to my stomach, like I needed to throw up to relieve some of the pressure in my throat. "Please, Al, I didn't do what he thinks I did; I haven't seen her in a few weeks - I wasn't with her today."
"Whatever, Garrett. I don't know how the hell we're going to fix this." He picked up the water again, stalking from the kitchen. His voice was quiet through the wall, but I stood in the kitchen a few minutes longer as I listened to him try and convince Carlisle that he needed to go to the hospital. Good fucking luck with that.
My vision was blurred by tears as I threw some stuff into a bag. Thankfully, Carmen answered when I called them, despite it being the middle of the night. I couldn't bring myself to tell her what was happening, but the saint of a woman agreed that I could come over anyway.
Heidi had ruined absolutely everything.
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