Jared/Chris Fic - Sorry - M READ WARNINGS
Title: Sorry
Characters: Jared/Chris
Rating: M for sensitive nature
Warning/spoiler: Sensitive issue; depression and suicide attempt
Word Count: ~1,200
Beta: NONE
Summary: Follow up to 'Drip' ( this ) as promised. What happens next and what is left of them. Jared and Chris have a long road ahead of them to be okay again. They are willing to work for it though, together.
A/N: Read the warnings cause this has sensitive a issue in it! Please, if you're going to comment no nastiness, you've been warned! don't read if you don't like!
It probably can be read as a stand alone, but the other fic is only 100 words long, you may as well see what I'm going on about first.
His eyes were focused on the long white bandages that covered his arms, the stark white material glaring back at him, mocking him. He was sure there were people, or at least a person, around him, he hadn’t been left alone since entering or leaving the hospital, but nothing registered on his ears or in his mind. Jared was huddled onto the large, plush couch, a fluffy blanket surrounding him, probably for extra warmth but he couldn’t feel the heat nor the cold.
He had tried to kill himself three weeks ago. It was as simple as that. Chris had found him on the floor bleeding out, his life slowly draining away. The doctor had said if Chris had arrived even a minute later that he would have been gone, but wasn’t he already? They said they had lost him on the table once, but brought him back. He didn’t feel like he was found, he still felt lost. None of the doctor’s words made any sense to him.
He hadn’t been allowed out of the hospital room at all for the first week. His arms cuffed to the bed railing and people coming in and out constantly, but Jared doesn’t remember much from there. He was given a lot of pills and slept a lot. When he wasn’t sleeping he was listening, he was meant to be talking but he didn’t want to, so he listened to the doctors, they said they wanted to help him. To fix him. He wasn’t so sure that there was much left to be fixed though.
He didn’t see Chris until the second week, his parents and Chris were always there, never leaving him alone. He wanted to be alone though. But he never argued with them, never asked them to leave. Sometimes they talked to him, he still listened most of the time. Other times they just sat there with him; silent, probably waiting for him to talk. He was allowed out of the room sometimes now, followed by a few people, someone pushing his wheelchair, another few by his side. He was taken outside into the sun a lot. They pointed out ‘pretty’ things to him. He couldn’t see what they saw.
Jared spoke in the third week. He said ‘sorry’ to Chris. Chris thought he was saying sorry for trying it, he was more sorry about failing (but he didn’t tell Chris that). Later he admitted to not being able to ‘handle it’. When asked what ‘it’ was, he just stayed silent. Both he and Chris knew Jared wouldn’t be returning to the acting world ever again, he didn’t need to say that aloud, they just knew. The doctors still came every day, they still fed him pills twice a day, but he wasn’t sleeping as much anymore. He’d sit staring at nothing and everything, just sitting and waiting.
Coming home was meant to feel great. It felt better than being in the uncomfortable hospital room, but he wasn’t really sure of anything anymore. He thinks it would have felt cold in there, colder than he was already feeling and he couldn’t understand how a room so depressing was meant to help someone with depression. He would have laughed at the irony of it all, if he laughed anymore. But being home didn’t feel that much different, things just felt more familiar. He wasn’t allowed into bathrooms alone anymore though, and was completely kept away from the upstairs one. He sometimes wonders if his blood still stains the icy floor tiles or if someone sat there scrubbing the evidence away.
It was probably Chris.
At night, they would curl up together, Chris a strong but silent presence behind him as Jared lay there, not sleeping, never really sleeping anymore. Chris would eventually fall asleep and Jared would turn over, searching Chris’ face for answers, clutching onto the other man and breaking once more. He sometimes hated himself even more for putting Chris through all of this, that was when there actually was something more for him to feel. His parents and the others were still around, but he never paid any mind to them, they would sit with him and talk to him. But Jared couldn’t stop looking at the bandages. Seeing what lay on his skin through the thick gauze.
Jared stood from the couch, the blanket silently pooling at his feet as he padded towards the bathroom. His eyes unseeing as his body went through the motions again. He walked through the bathroom door and stopped in front of the sink, turning the water on and staring into the mirror. He supposes he should be horrified by what he sees; pale and pasty skin, hollowed out eyes and greasy hair. He looked sick. Shaky fingers started to unwind the white bandages of his left arm, then continued onto his right. Careful fingers traced the raised, healing wounds, a gentle press causing him to hiss in pain. He continued prodding at the wounds.
Chris followed his lover to the bathroom. He had seen Jared get up and walk out of the room, he was always watching Jared now. Chris didn’t do anything as he watched Jared stare blankly into the mirror, all sharp and potentially dangerous objects had been thrown away three weeks ago, he just stood back and watched. His hands clenched around the doorframe when Jared started unwrapping his bandages, but he still didn’t move, he had to see what Jared was doing, he had to know if Jared would try something again. He didn’t do anything though.
The minutes ticked by slowly, neither man doing anything until Chris couldn’t handle the silence any longer. He walked into the bathroom and carefully wrapped his arms around Jared’s waist, careful not to startle the younger man. Chris hid his smile into Jared’s back when he felt the younger man lean back into the embrace unconsciously, he knew Jared was most likely unaware of it but Chris lived for the late nights where he pretended to sleep and Jared would finally turn over and hold him.
Chris brought his hand out and stilled Jared’s probing fingers. Their hands laying entwined over the damaged skin.
“I’ll always have these ugly scars...” Jared commented, so quietly that Chris wasn’t even sure Jared had actually said anything.
“Right now, I don’t care about that part,” Chris replied immediately.
Jared nodded, accepting Chris’ statement. It wasn’t going to be easy, far from it, but they both were determined to get past what happened three weeks ago. At the moment neither one of them could even name the ‘incident’, but it was still as raw and fresh as the long lines of scabbing skin that was present on Jared’s arms. Eventually they would name it, talk about it and then move past it. And everything would be okay again.
Jared shut his eyes, clenching them tight as he allowed himself to feel Chris behind him.
Together, they would be okay again.
They had to be.
~le fin
Let me know what you thought?! Comments mean the world to me! Anything at all will do!!
Characters: Jared/Chris
Rating: M for sensitive nature
Warning/spoiler: Sensitive issue; depression and suicide attempt
Word Count: ~1,200
Beta: NONE
Summary: Follow up to 'Drip' ( this ) as promised. What happens next and what is left of them. Jared and Chris have a long road ahead of them to be okay again. They are willing to work for it though, together.
A/N: Read the warnings cause this has sensitive a issue in it! Please, if you're going to comment no nastiness, you've been warned! don't read if you don't like!
It probably can be read as a stand alone, but the other fic is only 100 words long, you may as well see what I'm going on about first.
His eyes were focused on the long white bandages that covered his arms, the stark white material glaring back at him, mocking him. He was sure there were people, or at least a person, around him, he hadn’t been left alone since entering or leaving the hospital, but nothing registered on his ears or in his mind. Jared was huddled onto the large, plush couch, a fluffy blanket surrounding him, probably for extra warmth but he couldn’t feel the heat nor the cold.
He had tried to kill himself three weeks ago. It was as simple as that. Chris had found him on the floor bleeding out, his life slowly draining away. The doctor had said if Chris had arrived even a minute later that he would have been gone, but wasn’t he already? They said they had lost him on the table once, but brought him back. He didn’t feel like he was found, he still felt lost. None of the doctor’s words made any sense to him.
He hadn’t been allowed out of the hospital room at all for the first week. His arms cuffed to the bed railing and people coming in and out constantly, but Jared doesn’t remember much from there. He was given a lot of pills and slept a lot. When he wasn’t sleeping he was listening, he was meant to be talking but he didn’t want to, so he listened to the doctors, they said they wanted to help him. To fix him. He wasn’t so sure that there was much left to be fixed though.
He didn’t see Chris until the second week, his parents and Chris were always there, never leaving him alone. He wanted to be alone though. But he never argued with them, never asked them to leave. Sometimes they talked to him, he still listened most of the time. Other times they just sat there with him; silent, probably waiting for him to talk. He was allowed out of the room sometimes now, followed by a few people, someone pushing his wheelchair, another few by his side. He was taken outside into the sun a lot. They pointed out ‘pretty’ things to him. He couldn’t see what they saw.
Jared spoke in the third week. He said ‘sorry’ to Chris. Chris thought he was saying sorry for trying it, he was more sorry about failing (but he didn’t tell Chris that). Later he admitted to not being able to ‘handle it’. When asked what ‘it’ was, he just stayed silent. Both he and Chris knew Jared wouldn’t be returning to the acting world ever again, he didn’t need to say that aloud, they just knew. The doctors still came every day, they still fed him pills twice a day, but he wasn’t sleeping as much anymore. He’d sit staring at nothing and everything, just sitting and waiting.
Coming home was meant to feel great. It felt better than being in the uncomfortable hospital room, but he wasn’t really sure of anything anymore. He thinks it would have felt cold in there, colder than he was already feeling and he couldn’t understand how a room so depressing was meant to help someone with depression. He would have laughed at the irony of it all, if he laughed anymore. But being home didn’t feel that much different, things just felt more familiar. He wasn’t allowed into bathrooms alone anymore though, and was completely kept away from the upstairs one. He sometimes wonders if his blood still stains the icy floor tiles or if someone sat there scrubbing the evidence away.
It was probably Chris.
At night, they would curl up together, Chris a strong but silent presence behind him as Jared lay there, not sleeping, never really sleeping anymore. Chris would eventually fall asleep and Jared would turn over, searching Chris’ face for answers, clutching onto the other man and breaking once more. He sometimes hated himself even more for putting Chris through all of this, that was when there actually was something more for him to feel. His parents and the others were still around, but he never paid any mind to them, they would sit with him and talk to him. But Jared couldn’t stop looking at the bandages. Seeing what lay on his skin through the thick gauze.
Jared stood from the couch, the blanket silently pooling at his feet as he padded towards the bathroom. His eyes unseeing as his body went through the motions again. He walked through the bathroom door and stopped in front of the sink, turning the water on and staring into the mirror. He supposes he should be horrified by what he sees; pale and pasty skin, hollowed out eyes and greasy hair. He looked sick. Shaky fingers started to unwind the white bandages of his left arm, then continued onto his right. Careful fingers traced the raised, healing wounds, a gentle press causing him to hiss in pain. He continued prodding at the wounds.
Chris followed his lover to the bathroom. He had seen Jared get up and walk out of the room, he was always watching Jared now. Chris didn’t do anything as he watched Jared stare blankly into the mirror, all sharp and potentially dangerous objects had been thrown away three weeks ago, he just stood back and watched. His hands clenched around the doorframe when Jared started unwrapping his bandages, but he still didn’t move, he had to see what Jared was doing, he had to know if Jared would try something again. He didn’t do anything though.
The minutes ticked by slowly, neither man doing anything until Chris couldn’t handle the silence any longer. He walked into the bathroom and carefully wrapped his arms around Jared’s waist, careful not to startle the younger man. Chris hid his smile into Jared’s back when he felt the younger man lean back into the embrace unconsciously, he knew Jared was most likely unaware of it but Chris lived for the late nights where he pretended to sleep and Jared would finally turn over and hold him.
Chris brought his hand out and stilled Jared’s probing fingers. Their hands laying entwined over the damaged skin.
“I’ll always have these ugly scars...” Jared commented, so quietly that Chris wasn’t even sure Jared had actually said anything.
“Right now, I don’t care about that part,” Chris replied immediately.
Jared nodded, accepting Chris’ statement. It wasn’t going to be easy, far from it, but they both were determined to get past what happened three weeks ago. At the moment neither one of them could even name the ‘incident’, but it was still as raw and fresh as the long lines of scabbing skin that was present on Jared’s arms. Eventually they would name it, talk about it and then move past it. And everything would be okay again.
Jared shut his eyes, clenching them tight as he allowed himself to feel Chris behind him.
Together, they would be okay again.
They had to be.
~le fin
Let me know what you thought?! Comments mean the world to me! Anything at all will do!!