Just another day

Not another day... Hi there, my name is Tim. This is my first year at Westbridge... I'm 18 And they're never going to leave me alone.

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She'll Be No Statue | Tim&Lucy

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Lucy just wanted to sleep, that was all she ever really sought out most nights she crawled into bed with Tim. Those blissful hours where she didn’t have to be awake and run from everything. Tim, however, had always had a penchant for gentle conversation, dragging information out of her to satisfy some sort of belief that he actually cared about what she had to say. It was false, of course, and she hated it, of course, but she would sometimes entertain his wants. If she twisted it just right, she could even feel like she was being fair to the boy, for once in her life. But that night, with the discomfort of the earlier physical contact still tingling through her body, and the vaguest of recollections still tugging at the edge of her consciousness, she didn’t have the energy to care. 

Lucy pressed her hand sloppily against his mouth, mumbling out a shh into the sheets. Silence would be nice. Silence, and maybe having him a little closer to her. She knew she could take her shirt off right then and there and pull him as close as he could be, but it wouldn’t be right. It’d hurt him more than it’d help her, and that moment of closeness would only distance him farther from her in the future. The cost would be too high for the turn out, and for once she had the capacity to think it through enough. Still, she wanted skin, even if it didn’t lead to any sort of severe intimacy, and she slipped a hand up his shirt, running her fingers along his spin. Maybe the touch, and her unpleasant disposition would end things there, allow her some silence so she could focus in on the sound of his heartbeat instead. Tim didn’t always understand her silent pleading, though, and he could very well misinterpret it now. 

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Tim continued to smile. It was comforting to know that she was with him every night; the other option was too painful to think about, if it ever came to that, if she ever went off with someone else, it would just have to be another bit of bad news to swallow, wouldn’t it? He’d have to be happy for her regardless of what direction she took, he’d have to force a smile as long as she was happy, as long as she was okay. It didn’t stop him, of course, from hoping and praying every day that she would be with him, that she would be his and he would be her’s. Patience, he needed more of that.

With her hand lazily pressed against his mouth, Tim let out a snort, if she didn’t want him to talk he wouldn’t. It was easy as that. A year had really changed things. Instead of continuing to try to speak, Tim gave her a tight squeeze, his head tilting down and giving her a gentle peck atop of her dark hair. Inside his head he muttered a quiet ‘I love you’ letting his eyes close for a moment, relaxing in the moment with her there in his arms. He hardly even noticed her hand having snuck it’s way into his shirt, too bust thinking about how safe everything felt. Her warm flesh against his that was definitely something he had missed. This here was intimate but it couldn’t compare to that private feeling of being under the sheets completely nude with his girl. He could see it now, the silhouette of her naked body in the dim moonlight that flooded his dorm room, the outline of every curve, every dip, and every crevice seeming so perfect there in his arms. He could feet it too, his fingertips tip-toeing across her smooth skin. She was something he had never experienced in his whole life and he never wanted to experience anything other than her.

These thoughts felt so selfish and so wrong of course. Dreaming of intimacy with her, that closeness, imagining her naked, it was all wrong. He had to swallow the feelings down, keep them away. This wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about what he wanted, this was only about her. And something like that, something sensual could destroy the whole thing.

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She'll Be No Statue | Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

  Lucy paused a second, listening to the hallway behind her with a focus unique to her. No sounds of nurses rushing to the door, just an unrelenting silence that always seemed to follow her no matter where she went. A big nothing, waiting under her feet, eager for the opportunity to swallow her whole. She lifted her eyes to Tim, still not sure what to make of the way he smiled at her. It was selfish to be in this room with him, that much was painfully clear, the way he looked at her, it was too soft for it to be just platonic. Still, she craved the attention, no one else ever looked at her with that sort of kindness, and no one else seemed to handle it well when she spoke crassly. “Shut up.” She finally let her shoulders slump, letting herself shed the persona of apathy and strength she’d spend so much time perfecting. Lucy wrapped her arms around Tim’s neck, pulling him down to the bed with exasperation. She might’ve preferred to call him her friend, but even she knew her dependency on him was hardly the ground work for a healthy relationship. She couldn’t even sleep without him in the room, it was pathetic. 

She fidgeted up to the pillow, adjusting his arms so he obscured her from the window the nurses looked through. She should move the blanket too, it would be cold without it, but she didn’t really want to move. Instead she closed her eyes, pressed her face into his chest and let the exhaustion of pretending finally show.

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A year ago Tim might have felt a little upset by such a snappy ‘shut up’, but he had grown so accustom to it that he barely noticed the harsh tone. Even having been shot down, it didn’t stop him from being sweet. She could shoot him down time and time again but there was nothing that could cease his love and undying affection for her. Of course, he’d also learned to tone it down, not be so incredibly sappy all the time. Maybe it was because how often she had told him he was a girl or maybe because he thought she’d stick around longer if he didn’t sugar coat all his words.

The whole thing was part of a routine. Just like every other night, she closed the door, crossed the room, wrapped herself around him, and pulled them down to the bed. The same smile still rested against his lips, his arms draping around her, pulling her closer. The whole day seemed to melt away, all thoughts of his parents fleeting out the window. It might not be the same for her, he wouldn’t know, it wasn’t often that he brought up how he was feeling anymore. There wasn’t much talking between the two during this time, it was about letting her rest, being there for her, comforting her, getting her anything she needed so she could sleep peacefully. That was all he really wanted, even if sometimes things got bad in his head, even if the storm clouds gathered thick and far, he’d never let her go, he’d never leave.

“Are you okay?” It was just a general question, like ‘how are you’, it wasn’t that he actually thought anything was wrong but it was good to see how she was doing, even if she didn’t share it. The meeting with his parents made a reintroduction in his head. He knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it but it was easily going to be a distraction from the girl’s head on his chest. What would he do without her? How would she be without him? It was painful to think about. He could feel his chest tighten, he could never do that, he could never leave like she had. 

[timbuttons-blog]

She'll Be No Statue | Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy pulled back the eraser of the pencil, releasing the tension and sending it flying straight into the back of another patient’s head. she immediately turned her face to the window, feigning nonchalance. She hated this whole team building bullshit, as if making friends with a bunch of psychos would somehow reform her. Please. She was forced to attend at least two of these stupid things a week, they were a part of treatment and more than supplemented the school she’d dropped out of the months before. She had turned eighteen and could no longer be forced to attend grade ten for the third time in a row, but apparently it was still not her decision how many god damn group therapy sessions they decided she needed. At least in moments like this, when the teacher was writing down all the stupid exercises to improve ‘mindfulness’ she didn’t have to hear the other patient speak. The sobbing mess that was Gloria was exhausting to just watch, she’d use the group to garner sympathy from the doctors, sharing far too much and playing the victim like it was an instrument. That was why Lucy liked to throw her supplies at her, if she was going to listen to someone else cry it may a well be over something Lucy had done. It was more satisfying to know she’d caused the tears.

The class ended, after what felt like half of Lucy’s life, and she rose quickly, empty handed as always, rushing to the door. “Lucy,” she groaned, and turned to face the nurse who headed the group. “What is it now, Johnny boy, if you’re looking for tears to bottle and use to rub on your cock to maintain it’s smooth finish, might I suggest someone else? I’m not even sure you’re face could scare me enough to get enough tears out of me.” She stood with her feet apart, shoulders pulled back and jaw set tightly. It was the most intimidating she could look, given her small stature and young age. Very little about Lucy could be taken seriously without the extra effort. “You didn’t return the pencil I lent you at the beginning of class,” John spoke slowly and clearly, as if he expected her to mishear him. Lucy rolled her eyes, turning he head in the process and jerking her head towards the back of the room. “It’s somewhere on the floor, with the pools of urine and tears from the other patients.” 

“Lucy,” it was a warning, but hardly an intimidating one, “please return the pencil I lent you.” She heaved a sigh, flexing her jaw as she gave a half hearted nod. The things he could elect to do to her were worth more than her pride. She bent down, turning her back to him so she could have the added level of obnoxious of her ass in his face, and picked up the pencil. With as much insolence as she could muster, she placed the orange utensil on the edge of his desk. She turned to stomp out, but John stopped her again. “I expect you to share more in the coming weeks, you’ve been a poor participate since joining out group,” she looked at him again, and saw the way he leaned forward at his desk, his chin propped up with his hands. “Oh yeah, maybe I can talk about you’re throwing off my sleep schedule, and harassing me,” she took a step closer, mocking in her voice, “tell you all about how the priest touched me in my no-no place, and mommy said it was just a part of god’s plan.” Her voice took on something like a lisp, as if she was mimicking a child. She got no reaction out of John, or so she thought, until his dig began. “Well, I thought maybe you could share something about your stay, last year was fairly difficult for you, especially at the beginning. That experience is hard for anyone, losing a chi-” She reacted before he could finish, gabbing one of his hands, she pressed his palm against her chest. She’d taken him off guard, and he looked speechless for just a second. “Oh, honestly, if all you wanted was for me to stay behind so you could touch my chest, all you had to do was ask.” He jerked his hand away, anger very clearly flaring up on his face. She made her exit as quickly as possible, hearing an angry yell of Lucy in her wake. 

                                               **********

She tried to be quick as she moved down the hall, nodding at the nurse who stood by her door. “I was waiting for you to come back,” Lucy slipped into her cell. Listening to the sound of the key locking the door behind her. It was a lot cheaper for the staff if they just locked the patients into their cells at night, they didn’t have to do rounds with as much frequency. Lucy crumpled up her sheets, giving a half assed impression of someone under the blanket. They had never been very perceptive. She pulled her stack of business cards out from under her mattress. They gave these out like candy, police officers, doctors, always telling you to give them a “call if you ever needed anything.” She said the same back quite frequently. She’d tapped three together, the cardboard was stiffer this way. She slipped it along the seam of the door, attempting several times before the door finally opened just a crack. She looked out the opening for anyone watching the halls, but they were characteristically empty. She moved on her toes, closing the door behind her. Normally, all she had to do was sneak back in before morning rounds, her absence going unnoticed. 

She reached Tim’s room in just a few minutes, jiggling the lock on his door with a lot more ease. For some reason it was always easier for her to get in than it was to get out. She tried not to slam the door shut behind her. 

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Propped up against the wall, Tim watched the door. He could honestly find something better to do with his time then sit and wait so eagerly, but this was the one good part of the day, as getting to see her had been any day, ever. He’d decided it was best if he didn’t say anything about his parents. It wasn’t hard to tell how they felt about her, just by their posture anyone could tell they were uncomfortable by her presence, maybe even a little disgusted. And the way they spoke about her to Tim, well, that disgusted him equally as much. No matter, it couldn’t change a thing, it couldn’t change what happened and it wouldn’t change what Tim promised himself he was going to do, for the rest of his life if he had to.

The whole “just friends” thing was hard to swallow at first. It was even harder not to talk about the events that followed Tim’s suicide attempt.  But it was far worse to see her upset than any storm his brain conjured up in his head because of all those terrible feelings. So, to say the least, Tim simply got used to how things were. He got used to not bringing things up, he got used to just lying there in bed with her, he got used to not talking about all those feelings, and he got used to covering up the mental and physical scars it had left. He loved her, and that was what truly mattered, and he would do anything he possibly could for her.

The familiar sound soon filled his small room, the click of the lock and the creak the door always made no matter how quickly or slowly you opened it. He barely shifted; that little noise always seemed to relieve any anxiety he felt about her perhaps getting caught or just not coming at all. And that vision there of her shape in the doorway always seemed to brighten the room, make things appear better than they really were. Tim pushed the corners of his lips up, “Hi, pretty girl.”

[timbuttons-blog]

She'll Be No Statue | Tim&Lucy

Tim’s brain continued to toil with the thoughts of the last twelve hours. It had started out a normal week day; he got up, ate breakfast, waited around for Lucy, ate some more, watched one of the movies they had on in the recreation room, everything was just like every other day, or at least how every day had been since his attempt. He was waiting to talk to the psychologist when he saw them. There they were standing in the doorway, looking pleasant like they did every weekend they visited… But this wasn’t a weekend. For a moment Tim thought he had gotten the days mixed up, that maybe the medication had really thrown him in a loop and really several days had passed. Calmly, he greeted his parents, watching them as they walked into the doctor’s office, smiling bright. He’d been informed to wait outside for the time being, that they had a private matter to attend to… Whatever the hell that meant. It wasn’t really private if it was about him, was it? When he was finally called into the office he was greeted with their same smiling faces and a calendar that verified that it was indeed a Tuesday afternoon.

“Tim,” The doctor nodded towards the third chair that had obviously been dragged in for his convenience. This wasn’t a surprise visit; this was all a part of something his parents had already discussed with the doctors. Tim eyed the worn leather chairs his parents sat in, wary about every movement he made, wary about every move they made. “Tim, your parents have come to me because they wanted to discuss something with you.” Tim nodded his head; he was beginning to feel very hesitant about the whole situation. “We thought it’d be best if I were present to discuss it.” Tim repeated the motion like he understood what was going on, but this time the doctor had turned his attention to his mother whom had anxiously swiveled in her chair to look at him.

“Timothy, your father and have been discussing a… A potential relocation for you,” She was suddenly more frantic with her words trying to get them all out as quickly as she could. “We were thinking we could get you in a program for therapy and get you enrolled at the university and then you can come live back at home with us… In our care.”

His blank stare probably said everything. They hadn’t cared this much when he went to them for help, they didn’t care when he first came to Westbridge, they didn’t care about his contraction of an STI... But the attempt, that’s when everything set off. They were there every other weekend it seemed, meeting with him and the doctors, making sure he was being taken care of properly, making sure he was under the right supervision. He’d cried for help back in Florida… And they hadn’t come. It seemed pointless for them to be so involved now, now after he had met Lucy, after he had already decided what he was going do with himself.

The answer had been simple. After he’s clearly spoken ‘no’ there wasn’t much else to discuss, there wasn’t much else for him to think about after that. Sitting in his bed, this was the only part of any day he looked forward to, but this whole day seemed to take a strange turn and his thoughts were still working away at him so hard that maybe lying in bed wouldn’t have the same relaxing, unwinding feeling. Maybe his parents were going to stay in a hotel for the night, for the week maybe, try again tomorrow, see if their son had changed his mind. God, he hoped they didn’t. They really just needed to get back on a plane and head straight back to Florida and leave him be… Maybe even stop calling… Leave him alone all together. Tim knew this wasn’t going to happen, this was something he knew they had discussed with the doctors, that he knew they had planning to talk about with him for who knows how long. It wasn’t like Tim was going to change his mind though, no matter how much they hated Lucy. And if they couldn’t accept who he was now and how he felt then that was just an even better reason as to why they should just leave all together. After meeting Lucy, after falling in love with her, after everything they had gone through, after everything that had happened, he promised himself he was never going to leave her side… He was going to take care of her, even if she wasn’t his… This was how it had been almost every night, or as much as he could remember since the attempt. It was every night he waited for her to sneak into his room, slowly close the door, slowly pad over to his bed and climb in with him.  So this is where he waited now, debating back in forth in his head whether the right idea would be to tell her about the meeting with his parents today. 

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

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She almost laughed at his scowl, she though it looked so out of place on his features when he was in such a medicated state. Lucy glanced down at his grip on her hand, still not as strong as she remembered it being, then back up to his, watching them soften, she couldn’t resist leaning in and kissing him. “I do, but that’s never been enough before.” Love had so little to with life, you could love somebody, desperately, deeply, feel like you needed them to raise the sun, to breathe the air, and they’d still leave. That was the thing about people, they were always going, moving on and away, and Lucy had never quite sorted out how to do that herself. Stuck in place, strangers washed over, became entire worlds in their own way, then slipped between her fingers. “How can you say it isn’t my fault when you wouldn’t have done this if I’d been here?” she was bent over the railing at the hips, the plastic of it digging into her, but she didn’t want to pull away from Tim. Not just yet, even though she had to,even though it was the right thing. “I don’t want to ruin you anymore sweetheart.” 

Lucy threw her arms around Tim as he sat up, panicking at the sight of him moving despite the medication and wounds. She tried to lift him so he wouldn’t be pressing on his injuries, her heart thundering in her chest with fear of him hurting himself even more because of her. “I have to go Tim, if I don’t I’ll get out back into isolation, or transferred into another hospital,” She pressed her hands into his shoulders, holding him in places she didn’t think would hurt. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise, I’ll come see you again, I just can’t stay any longer.” She wasn’t entirely lying about the threat of isolation, or being sent to another facility, one that might not have been a hospital this time around, but that wasn’t why she was leaving. Seeing him, talking to him, it hurt so fucking much, she could feel it crush her lungs and burn her insides, she wanted it to end. That was all she could think about, was ending the feeling, of grief, of selfishness, of… everything. She had to leave the room, leave the ward, the building, the city, the world, however far it took to get away from it. She was running, stupidly, avoiding the feelings and dodging the thoughts, she just wanted things to stop sucking so much. “Please be more careful,” she pulled away to examine his wrists, checking to see if any signs of blood had begun to show. She knew she’d have to call a nurse if that happened, get him treatment and accept her punishment for wandering despite her restrictions. She put a hand on his face, tilting her head, “remember what I said, if you hurt yourself again, I do too,” she brought his wrist up to her mouth, lightly kissing the bandages. 

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Tim's face was still rather sour, puckered up with frustration, trying to scowl, he wanted her to stop saying those things. "You're not ruining me," His fingers began to quake just as steadily as they had before. Too much movement. Too much talking. Too much emotion. Really what he needed was to just go back to sleep. His body was definitely ready for that,  he'd been forcing himself to stay awake for too long now, he was sure he was about to shut down completely. But he continued to fight it, continued to fight the drugs, continued to try and stop the dream from ending. "It isn't your fault... It's all my fault, it was always my fault." Tim shook his head, trying to keep the tears in check as well. "If you had been here I would've had someone to talk to... But y-you left because of me." Tim swallowed, why did any of this have to happen? Why did he have to break his promise? Why did he kiss Lola? Why couldn't he just get over the fact that he felt lonely? Lucy loved him. She said so. She'd said so after their date... And by then it had been too late... He'd already fucked everything up. And now what was left? This hallucination of Lucy, kissing him, talking to him, how would he explain that to his doctors?

"What do you mean?" Isolation? What did she mean she was going to go back if they caught her? His face contorted, no longer in frustration but in pain, in discomfort. Moving, definitely wasn't the best idea. He pushed himself up straighter, he didn't know exactly how he would get himself back into a horizontal position, so this would have to be fine. His face had relaxed, "I want you here." It felt a little nicer to be sitting up again, he wanted out of the bed now, he wanted to get up and see how far along he could. But when he tried to stretch his legs under the sheets he could barely feel them there. He hadn't ever been hospitalized before, so this was a new feeling. Maybe his legs wouldn't work whenever he tried to get up again... Maybe he had really fucked something up in his fit of cutting himself. "I love you, Lucy," He watched her lips as she kissed his bandage, it didn't feel the same... It was still comforting in a way, but it didn't feel like it had when she had kissed his bare scars. He was going to have so many more now, "L-Luce... You'll kiss all my new scars?" The question felt out of place but his chest ached for her to be close again. "And you'll come back to me? Y-you'll be mine again, yeah?"

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

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Lucy knew Tim couldn’t really process anything that was being said, which she attributed to why he was suddenly telling her so much more about things than he had before. He wasn’t related to his parents, the voices told him to kill himself, there probably so many more things like those he kept from her, important things. It hurt, to know he had to be drugged up to share with her, that despite all his claims to love he still hadn’t felt he could trust her with all these pieces of himself. Who was she to judge? She’d been so vague with him on purpose, Tim probably didn’t even know how many siblings she had, or how long her mother had been dead, the things that bounced around in her head, taunting her and pullings away layers of mind. She turned her head, reaching for Tim’s hand once again, it was more to comfort him than her. “It didn’t have to be me, Tim, I’m not a special person,” her mouth twitched, she’d been told that many times before she started to believe it, she wondered if they would be proud to see she’d finally broken, “I was just here, in the moment you needed somebody, like I always am.” She squeezed his hand. “It isn’t your fault you fell in love,” if he even really had, “people bond over pain, but it isn’t right that you bounded to me over pain I’ve caused you.” She wiped at her eyes with her free hand, this wasn’t the direction she wanted this to go, she just wanted to check up on him and make sure he was still alive. Go back to her room, continue isolating herself from everyone as best she could, avoid Tim until she died from it. That’s what she really wanted, not to break down and spill her insecurities and hate to Tim, she knew he’d rebuff every single one, try to convince her they were all meaningless, but what did he even know? He was clueless, he didn’t understand, understand the type of person she was, understand the way she always ruined things. If he did he’d let go of her hand and never touch or look  at her again. 

He stuttered and she knew she’d made a mistake. Lucy swallowed the feelings, instead leaning back over Tim, she spoke to him like she would a child, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” she brushed back his hair, keeping her face looking gentle and distant, “just pretend I never said anything.” She kissed his forehead, trying to swallow the entire exchange back into her, she should never had let the words out, they did more harm outside than inside. She reached down and grabbed his other hand, holding them both gently, pressing her forehead to his. The ice that seemed to overtake her, freeze her thoughts, feelings, memories, burned the back of her skull, she could only imagine the kind of mark it would leave behind. Holding so much in, it ached. “It can just go back to being a secret, okay?” Her fingers where still wrapped around his when she lifted her hand, pressing her index finger to her lips, then his, “we’ll just keep quiet about it, never mention it again, and I’ll take care of the rest, okay Tim?” She smiled widely, but her eyes didn’t feel it. “Everything will be just fine, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” She gave him a light kiss, trying to seal his thoughts with the gesture, her fingers curling around into his, tighter, she was going to bruise him if she kept doing that. She pulled away, putting her feet back on the ground, she placed Tim’s hands on either side of him, brushing along his palms. “Now be good, okay? If I hear you hurt yourself again, you know what I’ll do,” she felt around for the button again, the railing swinging back up into place easily. She leaned down, all smiles and reassurance, pretending she hadn’t let a few tears slip, that her mind wasn’t filled with toxic things. “Just go to sleep, okay? Just go to sleep.”

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim scowled, of course he couldn't convince her, he could never convince her of anything. That was always how it had been., and maybe that was how it always would be? Tim had prepared himself for this though, he told himself that he would never give up on this, give up on her, give up on them... He knew that even in a deluded state. "No," Tim said, his brow still furrowed, he knew the emotion behind that now, frustration. No more tears, not more getting upset. "You have to believe me, you c-can't just push me out." Tim clutched her wrist, "Cause I love you, Lucy." He was trying his best to be stern, to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. "And you love me." Swallowing, his face began to relax, it was probably out of exhaustion instead of his own will. As soon as she was gone he knew he'd be back asleep, or whatever that was anymore. That couldn't be real sleep he was drugged to hell, that was the only way he had slept... And now he was frustrated, trying his best to understand, trying his best to make her understand. "I just want you to understand, that this isn't you're fault... You're so special to me."

But of course she was leaving. All good things ended. She would leave after he spilled himself and after she told him things he didn't understand, that was how it had to be. Tim attempted to blink away the pain as he watched her climb out of his bed, his lip quivering once again. "You can't tell me to be quiet about it or not to worry or that everything is going to be okay," He no longer cared for being delicate with his stitched and IVx, he forced himself up, straining his weak arms as he did so. "Don't," He was sure the panic had escaped with his meek voice. He didn't want this to happen... He wanted her to crawl back into the bed and just lay there with him and kiss him like she had done before. The same fear he had always pitting itself in his stomach once again. Once again would he have to be in fear that she wouldn't come back, that she was going to disappear forever. For all he knew she already had, already disappeared, already erased him from her memories. Tim didn't want that and he didn't want this, this faux reassurance. It's not okay when the person you love is leaving. "No, no, no," Tim shook his head again, the tears beginning to freely fall. There was no use in trying to be strong, he was going to crack at one point or another, now seemed just as fitting as any other. "You can't leave me again..." His hands balled into fists, "I want you. I need you. Don't go." He felt like a child again, of course.. Begging. Demanding for something he couldn't have. "Just... Please..."

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

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She watched him with a desperation, she wanted it to all be true, but there wasn’t any way. Lucy never lost her love, she knew that much, but she’d seen other people behave so differently, maybe it was just her crazy. Maybe it was why she was crazy, the love stained her finger tips black, a constant reminder of what she had, what she felt, and what was gone. Tim’s hands were clean, she could see that when they’d first met, nothing stained him, but she’d changed that. Not black, but red, ruining his clean, she wanted to cry so hard, mourn the boy he used to be before she even knew him. “You shouldn’t be mine,” she spoke almost inaudibly, “I should never have taken you.” She squeezed his fingers, chocking on the air that filled her lungs, she had to resist the urge to hide herself in him. “You didn’t deserve this, you wouldn’t have done this to yourself,” she lifted his hand, showing off his wrapped wrist, “without me around. I’m not worth it, haven’t you picked up on that yet?”

Lucy felt so out of place in Tim’s arms in that moment, she sat up, her fingers slipping from his, she stared down at the floor. She curled her toes and crossed her ankles, wrapping her arms around her abdomen as if she could erase what was there. The last thing she wanted was a baby, she’d get so tangled up in the mess, and wind up just like her mother. Always. That was the path she was stuck with, she could not falter her steps, every day was one closer to the brutal insanity and violent end. She didn’t want to leave anyone behind in that aftermath, she’d gotten Tim stuck in it, but that would change, she was sure. But a baby? That was stuck to her, she’d have to go nine months with that thing in her, and then she’d have to give it away to strangers, to hurt and destroy the child. At least it wouldn’t be in ways she would. She should lie, say it wasn’t his, that it was from the time she ran away the first time, some random scum of a guy who was willing to pay a drugged out teenager money for sex. It wasn’t, though, she was too many weeks along for it to be anyone but Tim, there was that one god damn week, the one week between what happened with Tim, and what happened with anybody else, and that changed it. They’d given her days when she’d first been told. Fucking days along. She’d returned, and they’d tested her for STIs and STDs, and they’d found a god damn baby in her. She removed her hands from her stomach, pushing them into her skull instead. It was a mess, it just added up to another reason behind why she should never have gotten involved with Tim. His attempt, this fucking baby, it was spiraling. Everything was fucking spiraling. She wished she was just dead, instead.

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim's brow furrowed once again over his droopy eyes. This time it wasn't the confusion, it wasn't even anger. The things she was saying, the words coming from her mouth made him feel sour. It was obvious she didn't know what she was saying (just like he hadn't understood what she was saying), because he was her's and that was the fact, and he loved her no matter what. She must still not understand that, still not believe how deeply he cared for her, how deeply he had cared from the very start, from the very first time they had spoken to each other. "You can't blame yourself," He finally spoke, letting her finish all she had to say before he retorted, before he proved her wrong. "If I didn't have you- if i didn't... I would have done something like this anyway." Tim's eyes turned down, examining the rags around his arms through his half closed eyes. "You saw, you saw what I had done to myself before. And then I fucked everything up, Lucy. I fucked it all up." His voice shook, "Y-you can't blame yourself for this... I hurt you. I hurt everybody." Tim could feel the tears stinging at the corners once again, his body preparing for the emotions to flow once again. "S-so what do I have? What do I have when you disappear?"He couldn't look at her, for all he knew she was gone already, her fingers had escaped his, she probably dissipated into the air like he had thought. "My parents? You think they want to clean up after the crazy kid that isn't even biologically their son..." His lips quivered, the words stung to say out loud, words that hurt to day to anyone and now so honestly speaking them to Lucy. "The kid who has some disease from the people that didn't want him... A-and these people," he shook his head, reaching up and tapping his temple, "These people up here, they don't w-want me to live... They want me to be alone... They want me to drive off that bridge." Tim choked down a breath of air, trying hard again to keep the dam up. "And when y-you're around... When you're around I feel better."

She was probably gone,or ready to leave, with his walls crumbling again, sleep was inviting him back in. What did all this mean? Was this just another way for him to destroy himself from the inside out? Have this figure of Lucy tell him she loves him but tell him he needs better, when it was already clear that he needed her? And tell him about a baby? "B-b-baby..." This word also sounded foreign as it stumbled out his mouth. It couldn't be possible. Could it? She had said not to worry about it, that she couldn't get pregnant. Was this supposed to be some sign? Like some telekinesis telling him that Lucy was out there and was holding their baby in her stomach? A sob sputtered out of Tim's lips. "What's going on?" He was admitting to his confusion, admitting to how strange and scary it felt, he wanted reality back. He wanted to wake up in his bedroom and know what was real and what wasn't. He wanted to know that Lucy was still gone and he was still in Westbridge. He wanted to know that he was either awake or dead. Empty and scared. Weak and tormented. Tim was back where he had started, not understand what was up and what was down.

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy could see herself falling asleep there, in Tim’s arms, him kissing her hair and holding her hand. She closed her eyes and absorbed the moment, she didn’t know how many she had left like that. He loved her, he kept saying that, but he was so drugged up, even if he meant the things he said they wouldn’t be so simple in daylight, he might not be so willing to hold her this way. “I think you can, Tim,” she opened her eyes, thinking of her mother’s last days, her vehement hate for her father, the way she seemed hysterical no matter the circumstance, even Kale she rejected. She’d loved them once, her father told her that, she just got sick. And Lucy and Tim, they were so god damn sick, so far gone, love couldn’t possibly be a solid thing for them. She could see the waves of it breaking almost as easily and they’d seemed to engulf Tim, leaving him blinking the water out of his eyes, realizing there was no sunlight under that water. She moved closer, cuddling up next to him, inhaling deeply. He smelt so different, like medical tape and disinfectant, not that scent that made her feel comfortable in an instant. It felt wrong, and for a second she could’ve believed she’d just imagined everything for the last few days, that she was still locked up in isolation, hand cuffed and laying in the dark room, trying to figure out what to do with herself. She squeezed his hand as tight as she could, could feel his bones under the skin. She wondered if she’d leave a bruise. “I don’t want to, though. I don’t want to lose you, in any way, shape or form, I just want to keep loving you, keep hearing your voice and feeling your arms around me.” She closed her eyes again, she kissed his cheek, looking for his mouth, “I don’t think I’ll ever get to have this again,” she pressed their lips together, expressing as much of the longing and ache as she could. She’d never deserve this again, that’s what she really meant. She didn’t even deserve his love this time around, a  second time would be impossible. Tim. Tim was it for her. 

“You promise Tim? You promise you won’t, get upset or angry or,” she stopped and swallowed, trying to contain the feelings, “or leave me if I tell you?” He could do that, so very easily, push her away and never speak to her again. Fall in love with Lola, tell people the story of the time he went crazy and thought he was in love with a whore, never think of or speak to her in a positive light again. The ending was there, clear as day, and she couldn’t force the words out. What if he left? What if he hated her for not telling him sooner? What if he hated her for telling him at all? Over and over, she could name a hundred reasons to keep her mouth shut, but they all paled when she realized one very important thing. It deserved Tim. Not her, she’d be god awful about caring for anything but herself, but Tim… Tim would be so good at it, he would love it so much, take such good care of it. “You haven’t to understand how sorry I am, Tim, how stupid I feel for making this mistake, I never should’ve gotten into this mess, and you can leave if you want, I would understand, you don’t need to stay around for me because there is no reason to, okay? Don’t feel obligated to do anything, this isn’t your responsibility,” she rambled on, pausing to catch her breathe, she kissed him once more. He might not let her do that ever again. “Tim,” she turned her face away, couldn’t help the tears the threatened, “I’m pregnant.” 

[timbuttons-blog]

"You can't," Tim shook his head, well sort off, it was as much of a movement as he could manage. "It just doesn't happen. Once you love someone, once you're in love with someone it's always there. It never leaves." Tim had to stop to breath, leaving a long pause, letting the silence engulf him for just a moment so he could catch his breath. "N-no matter what happens, I will always love you." Tim blinked his eyes, trying to relieve some of the weight, trying to get them to stay open easier. It would be a struggle the whole time he was sure, there was no stopping the weary feeling that weighed down his eyelashes. "I don't understand what you mean," He blinked again, this time letting his eyes rest for only a moment. "Why don't you think you'll get this again?... I'm all yours... I always have been." His voice was strained again, he'd been trying so hard to talk straight, to feel like he was awake, he was slipping back into it again.

Tim nodded his head in agreement. She was making an awful big deal out of this for being a vision. Maybe it was some subconscious thing he needed to remember, maybe that was what she was trying to say, "I p-promise." It didn't feel like a real promise, all the promises he had made to her fell short before... And in this state he presumed this one would do the same. Taking in another deep breath, he listened intently, trying his best not to get distracting by the shivers in his arms or the lead in his eyes. She was apologizing... Saying it was a mistake... Saying he shouldn't feel obligated to do anything? Tim's brow knit with concern, what was she talking about? Nothing could stop the confusion now, it was a freight train that couldn't be stopped. "I'm not going to leave you, I don't understand why you're sorry..." Tim was trying to get out the words, trying to form a complete thought about whatever this was. "You didn't do anything wrong," He shook his head, he wasn't really hearing her now, he was focusing more on making a complete sentence then the words that continued from her mouth. Of course it all stopped once her lips touched his. That was an easy way to get him to shut up, to get the motor in his head to stop. But as soon as her lips were there they were gone, turned away, speaking again. Pregnant. Pregnant. It sounded so foreign. Like maybe he never knew exactly what that word meant, until now. "Y-you're..." What? She couldn't be pregnant, she wasn't pregnant. "W-with, my... baby?" He was sure the confusion escaped in his voice.

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy gave a dry chuckle, “this better not turn into an ‘I told you so’ Tim,” she tried to shift again, the angle and size of the bed made it hard to coordinate herself without laying on the bandages, or tubes that almost seemed to cocoon the boy. He meant it when he said he’d stay for her, Lucy had fought so hard against believing it, but there was no way he could say a lie so sweetly while his mind was so foggy. She wanted to cry again, just like she had the first time he’d told her that, but she kept the tears at bay for Tim’s sake. He couldn’t possibly understand that they weren’t entirely sad, that there was happiness mixed in their with the contempt she felt for herself. There had never been a person who made her feel like she mattered like Tim did. She ran her fingers under her side, gently pulling the tubes out and pushing Tim’s arm over, she pulled herself up so her head was on his shoulder, and away from his wounds. Lucy didn’t promise Tim a thing, she counted on his mind to cary him away from the thought before he could prod for an answer. At this point, she’d have deserved a bit more pain,  looking at him, hearing the stutter and feeling the tremors that had rippled through his skin, she hardly even deserved to be in his presence. She deserved pain, deserved to be hurt in a ways a million times worse than Tim had been, but his desperation kept her rooted there in the bed beside him. She tried to convince herself it was for him, that in his drugged out state it would be a comfort to have her around, but she knew that wasn’t all of the truth. She needed him so much more than he could ever need her. “What if I changed, Tim,” selfish to be asking him this while he was bedridden, but she had to know, “what if I was different.” She was changing, in ways she couldn’t even make sense of, and she might wake up an entirely different person tomorrow. She need him to still be here then, no matter what she deserved, she still felt that need.

She could feel Tim start to ease back into the bed, thought for a moment he might’ve even gone back to sleep just like that. She let her hand sit very lightly on his chest, she could feel the unevenness underneath her fingers. She saw his shoulder move, his hand lifting helplessly, Lucy reached out but didn’t grab it, she didn’t know what he was doing with it, maybe he was calling a nurse or clicking a button for another dose of whatever he was on. She wanted to hold it steady, the risk of torn stitches was nagging at her mind, staining the entire interaction with unease, but she couldn’t let herself do anything more. She had to stop forming so easily in his arms, she had to be ready to separate herself from Tim, for his own good. She was quiet, even with his go ahead she couldn’t quite convince herself to speak. Lucy couldn’t even form the words, the thought had just been sitting in the back of her head for so many weeks now, had been the motivation behind so many kisses, she’d resolved to keep quiet about it until she’d lost any way to deny it. She pressed her face into his neck, trying to pretend she hadn’t  spoken at all, but she lost that so quickly in the silence. She squeezed his fingers back, could feel the beginning of tears dampen the corners of her eyes. “You can’t freak out, okay, and you’ve got to forgive me for not telling you sooner.” The way he held her hand made her feel like she was strong enough to do this, to tell him the truth.

[timbuttons-blog]

"I told you so," Tim forced a weak smile. Drugged and content now, the world felt like it was fitting back together, like the puzzle he had so desperately tried to piece together before she had left was finally fitting the way it should. Tim turned his face as she shifted her way up, his lips meeting with her hair like they used to. Her dark hair smelled just like he remembered it. This was what it was supposed to be, the two of them together. Maybe when she came back she could really forgive him like she said she did, maybe when she was physically back in the hospital she would be able to pick things back up the way they had been. But it was hard to keep the feeling away, that maybe she would never come back... Maybe he would never really have her in his arms for real, ever again. Pushing the thought aside, he just wanted this alternate world to continue to be occupied by him and Lucy, reality could show it's ugly face later, but not now. Now was the time to drink her in again, remember all the sweet things they had shared, to keep her close and warm. "I'll still love you," Tim wasn't sure what she meant, of course he wasn't sure what anything she said meant, he didn't know how his imagination had come up with all of this, how it had managed to create such a lively hallucination, one that had kissed him, that had crawled into his bed with him. "I-I'm in love with you... And I think no matter what, y-you can't fall out of love with someone. No matter what."

Even though his eyes were heavy with sleep, he kept them open, kept them locked on their hands holding tight to each other. If he could, he would never let go of it again, he'd simply hold onto her for the rest of his life, but she would leave eventually. Either he would succumb to the exhaustion or he would watch as her hand faded from his, soon her whole figure disappearing into nothingness. He gripped her hand a little tighter, he couldn't let that happen, not again. Even if this was just a part of his illness, or a side effect from the medication, he couldn't let her leave again. A silence had fallen over her, normally he was comfortable in silence with her, not feeling the pressure to talk, but this was so surreal and maybe if she stopped talking it would mean she wasn't going to exist much longer. Tim gulped audibly, adjusting himself, forcing himself to wake up even more. "What is it, pretty girl?" It was hard not to sound urgent, but he was scared the moment was ending, the moment of serenity was going to be over and he would no longer have her. "I'm not going to freak out," Whatever that meant, he didn't know. He was already in a silent panic, his hand gripping her's tight, thinking he was going to keep her there by talking and holding onto her. If he voiced this, he'd just sound crazy. He felt crazy. He probably looked crazy... Bandaged covering him like a damn mummy, purple bags under his eyes, pale, stitches every which way... He really was going crazy, now wasn't he?

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

Keep Breathing || Lola && Tim

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

It took a long moment for the knowledge to sink in, the realization that Tim still thought this was all a dream, that he didn’t believe her. Taking a deep breath, Lola thought of all the different ways she could try to convince him, try to rationalize with him and make him see that she was really there. She imagined herself trying to convince him that Lucy was coming back, that she was back, and that she was still in love with him; but it would be worth nothing. He was still so pumped full of pain killers, he was probably trying his best just to stay conscious. She decided it was best just to let him be, and not fight it.

“I just.. I don’t want you to feel like.. this.” she said quietly, feeling as if she might as well get up and run out of the room and maybe he’d forget she was ever here. Pursing her lips, Lola wondered if that was just the drugs talking, or if he really felt that way, that she would disappear an desert him. It made her feel ill. Sitting up a bit when Tim did, her eyes widened a bit as she watched his swim around in his head. “Do you want me to call a nurse?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together with concern. Quickly, she stood, not sure what to do. “I’m sorry, I should go.. I’m just upsetting you. I’m sorry.” she said franticly, moving towards the door.

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim frowned, trying hard to keep himself up straight. "I-I'm sorry," She was leaving, it was probably best that she was leaving but it wasn't leaving like he thought she would. "I love you, L-Lola," Tim stammered watching as she grew closer to the door, "Be safe." He was confused still, of course, but if she left there would be no reason for her to cry, no reason for her to feel bad about what had happened. It was probably better if he was alone. "P-please get a nurse." Tim was slipping back int the bed, no longer able to hold himself up. But if she wasn't there, how could she get a nurse? "I'm sorry," He muttered again, his hand feeling for the little nurse call button, he didn't even know what he was going to ask for, maybe some water maybe a slap to the face to wake him up from this shit dream. "I'm sorry," he said again, mostly to himself. This really was too much to handle.

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy kissed him gently through the sobs, holding his face and brushing away the tears, she could think of no solution to offer. She just brushed her fingers along the same path, over and over, trying to erase the tears from existence. “You’re okay Tim, you’re okay. I’m here now.” She whispered out, pausing the kisses to look at his face. The sobs were so open, like she’d seen from her mother and brother growing up, it pulled her back to those moments so easily. Somebody she loved was falling a part, and it was her job to fix it. “I love you too,” she didn’t miss a beat, planting another gentle kiss on his lips, she felt his arms try to grab her and fail. She pulled away for just a moment, sliding her hands along the railing in search of the latch that would remove the barrier. It clicked, and she pushed it down, sliding over to lay alongside him in the cramped space, her head on the pillow beside him. She ran her fingers through his hair, setting it straight before reaching for his tears again. She wasn’t sure if she’d be doing the same thing if he wasn’t so heavily drugged, if he wasn’t making her think of the people she lost so much. But that wasn’t the circumstance she was in, and seeing him cry, coupled with the bandages and IVs to set the scene, it made it so much clearer how much closer she came to losing him. She pulled his mouth to hers again, not wanting to kiss him hard and failing miserably. That one was for her, she needed to kiss him before she started crying too.

“It’s okay Tim,” she stroked his face, “I forgave you almost as soon as you told me.” It shouldn’t have felt true, but it did. She wasn’t mad at Tim, not really, she was mad at herself. He’d done just as she expected him to, she pushed him away because she wanted him to stop being so clingy with her, and look what happened? It was her fault, all of it, if she’d been a proper person who didn’t fuck so much with other people’s head things would’ve been okay. Maybe she and Tim would be curled up somewhere hidden right then and there, sleeping in each others arms or whispering sweet nothings. Maybe Oliver wouldn’t have killed that girl, maybe she would’ve seen another person die because of her. If she hadn’t helped him get out, if she hadn’t been running away from Tim, it cycled over and over, never reaching a rational ending. “I am back, I’m not going to leave ever again, there are too many things I can’t see out there,” she was so scared of outside the walls of Westbridge, there was nothing that could puller her back out into that kind of harsh light. No good to be found among dead men. She put her hands on his, holding them down so he wouldn’t pull the IVs or heart monitor off, “stop it Tim, you’re going to hurt yourself again,” she leaned the slightest bit onto his chest, not wanting to disturb the wounds, “and I don’t want to ever hear you hurt yourself like this again, do you understand? Every time you hurt yourself, I’m going to do it too, the next time you attempt or tear out your stitches, or do anything stupid, I’m matching it, except I’ll make it worse,” she dug her fingers into his skin without thinking, “I’ll go deeper, I’ll take more pills, you understand? Because I love you so damn much it wouldn’t make any difference if I hurt myself, too, I need you to be okay, to be around, so much more than I need anything else.” She kissed him again, trying to make him feel how real and sincere she was being. “Stop apologizing, you love me and that’s all I need.” Pretty girl, the words had gone from a meaningless combination to a healing mantra. Pretty girl, pretty girl, it bounced around her head and made her feel warm and safe. “Tim I have to tell you something.”

[timbuttons-blog]

The shaking didn't stop, even as she climbed into the bed next to him. It struck up the memory of the last time they had been in a bed together. The memory vaguely swam around his mind, he could pick up the little pieces still even with his mind fading with the exhaustion. The feeling of being cramped on a little bed together was so familiar, so real. He had taken her to pizza, he remembered that clearly. The little fight they had had, the way she had slouched down in the booth, angry with him, he could barely pick up on that. He remembered her remarks to the waitress, he remembered the food taking too long. He remembered how she had kissed him, like really kissed him, for the first time in that booth. These thoughts were soothing and with her form next to him, resting against him... He remembered falling asleep with her there in his bed. It was the sweetest possible feeling, to fall asleep with the one you love. "I told you," Tim managed to get the three words out, his lips still craved her's like they always had, even heavily sedated, and even if she was a ghost, they were warm and sweet just like he remembered. "Didn't I?" His voice was growing softer, the words no longer choking themselves out of his throat, "As long as I have you, I'm not going anywhere." He took in a slow breath, trying to calm himself more, trying to let the sedation do it's work, relax his muscles, stop the quaking through his arms. The drugs were working, if they weren't he would take more notice to the dull pain where she rested against his chest or the tight aching in his arms were her fingers gripped as she spoke. His eyelids felt heavier, the spell of sorrow seemed to be over. "And I won't hurt myself...." Tim spoke slowly, trying to make himself clear even though it was obvious he was fading. "So you can't- you can't either... You'll always have me." And she would, she had had him from the first time they had met without him even realizing. "And I always want you."

Tim's eyes closed for a moment, he was tired. Emotionally and physically he was completely drained, everything that had happened, he couldn't wrap his head around it. He couldn't comprehend how it could feel so real to have Lucy next to him, to see the girl he was madly in love with again, but how he could barely see her, how everything felt so feather soft and blurred around the edges. But to touch her skin, to kiss her mouth, was heaven. If he died right now, he would be happy. But he didn't want to die now, the feeling had completely fleeted, this vision or whatever had put the will back in his doped up body, and he had hope for the first time in a month, hope that everything could turn out okay. Tim's hand felt for her's, he was afraid he would slip back into sleep, that he would go unconscious and barely be able to recollect this dream when he awoke. He wanted to be anchored to a reality that didn't exist in his doped up mind. It was like he wanted that pinch, to be told that he wasn't dreaming, that this was all real. "Tell me," Tim finally spoke, forcing his eyes to stay open. "You can tell me anything," Talking helped keep him up, forming the words and getting them out helped keep him as conscious he could be. His hand finally found her's, and this time he didn't let his weak body hold him back from gripping her hand like he should. With his fingers wrapped tight around her's he felt more awake, anchored down to a weird reality that might not even be there. It was a constant battle within his skull, to believe what was going on or to not believe it. It was an even bigger battle trying to comprehend the words Lucy spoke. Being told he had been forgiven, that she wouldn't leave, that she didn't want to leave ever again, it spun around in his head and he was unsure of how much longer he would be able to stay awake.

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy sat quietly, listening to him talk with a measure interest, she’d never heard him stutter so much and it amplified her fear that some other unseen damage had been done. She rubbed his knuckles, squeezing his hand in an attempt to make his grip seem less dead. Watching Tim in such a weak state ached, and it lead her back to the fact that she had caused it, she had screwed everything up. “I’m glad they took care of you,” she spoke in a small voice, “I can’t imagine a world without you in it.” Losing Tim before had hurt deeply, the pain was her fault, of course, but it always was. If she lost Tim completely, though, if he’d died that night after he attempted and she was confronted with that vast emptiness… She wouldn’t have been able to function, it would’ve blown a hole that was far to big in her life to fill it again. She couldn’t gloss over that much damage, couldn’t block out those many feelings. She was realizing more and more how difficult it was for her to live and breathe even with Tim in her life, if he was gone so was she. She returned his smile, and kissed his knuckles, “I’m not sure what good kissing it would’ve done,” she lost the smile, her voice becoming much quieter, “you got into a pretty bad accident.” She felt the way his hand twitched between her fingers, talking about ripping out the stitches and the steps they’d taken to stop him from hurting himself further. She leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to get as much of attention as possible despite the drugs in his system, “Tim, you can’t do that ever again, okay? You can’t rip out the stitches or do anything else that will hurt you like that, please.” Her voice cracked, the sadness bubbling up once again, “I need you around, I know that’s selfish and I know I shouldn’t ask you for this but…” She took deep breaths to try and steady herself, “please.”

“Tim,” she reached her hands out to his face, holding both sides of it as she turned it towards her, “Tim, Tim, Tim, don’t cry, please,” she leaned over the bed, kissing his cheek, feeling the dampness of it, “it’s okay, I’m back, I’m here okay Tim? I came back,” she kissed his eyelashes, trying to stop his tears with the gesture alone, “I even snuck out for you, risked another week in isolation for you,” she pressed her forehead to his, trying so hard to make him understand just how important he was, “I care Tim, and I don’t know what to do without you,” she slid a hand behind his neck, rubbing her thumb along his jawline. It hurt so much to see him in pain like this, it was made worse by the fact that she was the cause of it. If she hadn’t been so selfish, if she’d just gotten over the fact that he cheated on her, if she stayed with him and pretended everything was fine then it wouldn’t be like this. Lucy kissed him, pressing her lips over and over, trying to erase the things she’d done. He loved her far more than she deserved, but it was just the way she always craved. “I love you, okay, I love you and there isn’t a single other person on this planet who I love like I do you, so why wouldn’t I come back for you?” She kissed his mouth again, a long, lingering kiss, she missed him so much. It was a relief to feel his chapped lips against hers. “How could I possibly give this up?”

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim's lip continued to quiver, even as she kissed him, even as she spoke. His body was far too exhausted to hold it back any longer, the dam behind his eyes had finally given, and a steady stream began to pour down his cheeks. All this pent up sorrow finally making an appearance from out of his eyes. He had bottled it up tightly after she left, kept it under lock and key, and now it was free. Maybe it was because she was there now, or this sedated construction his brain had made of her was. Whatever it was exactly, the tears didn't cease. Weeks of sadness spilling from him, sadness that hadn't even been stopped by the copious amount of pills he ingested, or the times he had dug into his own skin, and then it all boiled over now, now after failing to take his own life is where it showed itself. He was too weak to even think about how small he looked, how childlike, how pathetic. "I l-love you," Tim stammered, tremors running through his fingertips as he attempted to lift his arms and wrap them around her, pull her in closer and feel her against his wounds, but all he really did was cause a tangle in his IVs. But he was desperate to have her closer, just to feel her for a second before she disappeared back into his head again, or wherever. He had never heard her speak so freely about him before (that was probably because this was some sort of dream) but it felt good and he wanted her so much more.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," Tim was trying his hardest to fight away the tears. "I'm so sorry," He couldn't blame her for leaving, he never would, she had every right. His solution had been similar, hadn't it? Choosing to leave instead of deal with the pain and the hurt, he had chosen the more permanent route. Lucy had left the hospital that was how she had chosen to escape all the pain, and  Tim had stayed and instead chose to die. So she couldn't actually be present there in the physical form, now could she? Why would anyone want to come back after having the chance to be so free? "I want you to come back," Tim swallowed back some of the pain from the pressure that was building in his chest, telling him to just break down and sob. "I'm sorry," Tim repeated, trying to free his hands from the web of tubes, trying to reach out and touch her once again, "So sorry." The tears were finally beginning to subside, but the choking of his words, the sniffling, the shaking that traveled all over his body would not. This kind of emotional outburst was really doing a toll on him in this state, "I'm so sorry." He was sorry for so many things. Sorry for letting down his parents. Sorry that he pushed them away. Sorry to have taken everything out on them. Sorry he kissed Lola. Sorry for making her feel like she was nothing. Sorry for cheating on Lucy. Sorry for making her feel worthless just like he had done to Lola. Sorry for making the one person he had ever truly loved run away. Sorry for making her cry. "I love you s-so much, pretty girl."

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

Keep Breathing || Lola && Tim

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

Lola couldn’t help but jump a bit at Tim’s words, startled by the way he yelled out. Biting down on her bottom lip, she leaned back in the chair, and unknowing of what to say, remained silent. His words weren’t a surprise to her, she knew he must have been feeling these things, but until he said them out loud, she couldn’t have been sure. Feeling the tears flood her eyes, Lola wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, watching Tim’s eyes turn black with grief. Finally, his rage seemed to subside, and instead was replaced by sorrow. Closing her eyes for a moment, Lola tried to imagine what it was like inside his head, tried to imagine what it would be like, that few seconds of happiness, complete and utter numb ignorance, between life and death.

Pulling the chair a few inches closer to his bed, Lola covered her mouth for a moment as she looked down at his wounds, studying them for a moment before he uttered a few more pained words. Her forehead creasing, Lola couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After everything, Lola would have thought she was the one person he believed would be there. She hadn’t deserted him so far, so why do it now? “I’m not going anywhere.” she said quietly, trying to contain herself. “And you say that you wanna die, and maybe you do, but I think you just need someone to need you. But you do have that, and more than one. Lucy, she needs you, too. Now that she’s back, she needs you more than ever. I’m sorry it’s always on her terms but I really think you two are meant for each other.” Lola took a deep breath. “I could never ask somebody to live in a world they didn’t want to be in, that has to be the definition of hell, but.. I don’t think you want to die. I think you’re just tired of waiting around for someone to give you a reason to live.”

[timbuttons-blog]

Pursing his lips, Tim could no longer look at her. It was too exhausting and he couldn't handle it anymore. He wished to go back to sleep, to roll over and have her evaporate just like he imagined it. "She's never going to come back," The words she spoke still made no sense, something about needing someone, something about Lucy being back, something about Lucy needing him... Glancing up at her for just a moment,  he felt the need to tell her to go, to tell her that he needed to go back to sleep, that he needed to be away from the world.  "She's a ghost now," Tim closed his eyes. "And you are too... You're just going to disappear..." He audibly swallowed, trying to clear out the dry lump that had formed in his throat. "I don't know why you want me to feel better."

It was hard to move but he forced himself to sit up straight. He was tempted to call a nurse, then he wouldn't feel so crazy, then he might have some sort of anchor to reality. "I-I don't feel good."

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Lucy’s hands shot out when Tim sat up, one hand on his back, she had no idea if him moving was a good idea. His drugged out words were so sweet, she wanted to kiss his mouth to taste them and see if it’d be the same. Her hands were firm against his skin, his back and chest, she could feel the gauze and bumps of stitches underneath. Her eyes flitted up from his torso to eyes, the lie so clear in his expression, it made her throat tight to think about it. “We-well, you were there for me when I had my accident,” she gave him a small smile, thinking about her own lie that she spread when she threw herself out of the tree. Without meaning to, she pulled her hand away from his chest and pressed it to her collarbone, she could still feel the break in it. “So I’ll be here for you, too, okay?” She just wanted to have him understand what she was saying, how much she loved him despite all she did. He meant so much to her, he did so much for her, she just wanted to return that somehow. She held tight to his hand, kissing the back of it, she pulled her other hand away from his back and held tighter to his fingers. “I’m glad you’re sleeping,” she pressed her cheek to his hand, it was an anchor for her to hold onto, despite it’s weakness, “I thought about you a lot at night, not sleeping,” she closed her eyes and sought comfort in his presence, “I worried about you.” And obviously she’s been right to, it was a painful thought but she could let it go with Tim’s hand in hers.

Wiping her tears, treating her so tenderly even though his mind was a million miles away, it was like a knife twisting in her chest. She lifted a hand and wiped away the rest of her tears, giving him a pained smile, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” she sniffed and sat up straighter, pulling her face away from his hand, she watched him with unbridled concern. She listened to him intently, waiting until he finished speaking before making a move to do anything at all. “I’ll take you where ever I go, I can’t leave you behind to get into… accidents here,” she spoke halfheartedly, mostly because the idea of escaping, of leaving Westbridge again felt so daunting and difficult, it was the last thing she wanted. All that could satisfy her now would be curling up next to Tim, like she’d done so long ago, and sleeping with his heartbeat in her ears, and his lips on her cheek. “It’s obvious I’ve got to take care of you,” she adjusted the blankets that covered him, they’d slipped when he sat up, exposing more of him to the cold air. It was the best gesture she could offer, she felt so helpless kneeling beside him in his hospital bed. She looked up at him again, this time sincerely smiling, “I’ve never been to Disney World, but we can go where ever you want, you’ve just go to get better, okay? Get better and we’ll do all the things you’ve ever wanted to.” 

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim blinked, his head resting back into the bed. "I thought about you constantly," It was beginning to feel more real, the way she moved, the way she spoke seemed a little bit clearer. "A-and I worried about you constantly, too." God, he had missed her. "Neither of us can be having an accidents," He cleared his throat again, it was dry and hoarse now, his hand weakly gripping her's. Wishing he could pull her closer, wishing he could kiss her and hold her like he used to, if he could he would pull her into bed with him, hold her tight and never let her go again. But Tim could barely move, every motion was exhausting and he had to pay special attention to how he went about it, he didn't want to rip out the stitching again. Motionless for only a moment, "They took care of me though." He made a slight nod, wishing he could hold her hand tighter. "If you were taking care of me... You would've just kissed it all better, right?" It sounded childish and weak but it put another small smile on his face. "You wouldn't have to c-cut down my nails, so I don't keep ripping out the stitches." Tim flexed his hand, still smiling the doped up smile, as if it were nothing. That's what the sedatives were for. Knock him out so his wounds could actually heal. Tim vaguely remembered them taking out the pair of clippers, they were enraged of course... And he was still on a mission. The mission to end it.

He deserved what had happened though, he deserved to suffer now and he deserved to have all the people he loved leave. These were the feelings that had drug him down that night, forced him to the drawer marked with an 'x', forced him to carve out the pain into his skin. These feelings still drowned him, he was still swimming in the misery of it all. "I'm sorry for-" He couldn't finish, his voice was quivering too much and he could really feel the tears in his eyes now. It was easy to give up on the emotions when he was so tired but they were fighting back now, forcing themselves to be known. He had hurt her, and he couldn't forget that. Not now. Not ever. If she was here now, she wouldn't be so gentle, so sweet, or, at least she shouldn't be... He didn't deserve any of it. "Y-you're," The word choked itself out, his voice growing more and more inaudible as he stifled the sob that wanted to force itself from his damaged chest. "You're not g-going to come back, a-are you?" The words forced themselves out into the air. He half expected her to disappear then and there as his vision fogged, as the room grew more and more unfocused. It was taking all of him to hold back the pain, the pain that seeded itself in the pit of his stomach and rooted through the wounds that covered his arms and chest. "You're n-not."

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

The sound of Tim’s voice shattered something inside of Lucy, she could feel the pieces fall in her chest, and it brought her to her knees. She put her chin on the railing, staring at Tim with an awe and sadness. Cautiously, she reached her hand forward, pushing his bangs from his face, her fingers shaking. “Hey,” she chocked, making tiny gasping noises till her windpipe cleared, “hi, handsome boy.” She pushed her fingers through his hair one more time before pulling them away. It felt selfish to be touching him, to even be near him like that, but she couldn’t help herself. The way he smiled, however weakly at her, it drew her in and made her want to just fade into him. “I’ve missed you so much, Tim,” she could feel the tears verging on her eyes, but she couldn’t cry in front of him, it wouldn’t be fair, so she chocked it down. “how are you feeling Tim?” She looked down at the bandages, the closer look made it even worse, the sterile whiteness seemed to leave too much to the imagination. She could picture a hundred different things under them, none of which were good. 

“I’m sorry, so damn sorry for leaving,” it was almost impossible to stop the tears that escaped when she spoke in her small voice, she shifted on her knees, the hard tile leaving indents in her skin. “If I’d known you’d do this I never would’ve left, I would’ve stayed with you no matter what,” she looked into his face and saw the distance, it hurt so much to see him so far gone. Lucy was suddenly struck by the thought that maybe his attempt had done some damage, maybe his head would be different now, and he’d always look at her with that detachment. She reached out and touched him again, this time putting a hand on his cheek, she’d stay with him no matter what, not the same way as before, she had lost the right to that, but she’d do as best she could for him. “I’m here now, though, and I’m never going anywhere ever again,” she didn’t want to be anywhere else anymore, the things that’d happened, the things she’d seen, it sent her running back here. Westbridge was hell, but at least it wasn’t the outside world, she had lost her ability to handle that place in her time institutionalized. Or maybe it was just her time with Tim, she wasn’t as hard as she’d once been, and it was impossible to think about anything but Tim. His voice and words, the things she’d almost erased from the earth with her stupid selfishness. He would haunt her for the rest of her life, just like how her mistake, and the damage she’d done to this beautiful boy, would. 

[timbuttons-blog]

Tim shifted, pushing himself up as best as he could, trying his best not to rip the delicate stitches under his dressings. This vision of Lucy was as beautiful as ever. The same beautiful girl he fell in love with, kneeling next to his bed, gently touching his forehead, it made him smile a little wider. "I missed you so much," Maybe it was the fact that he had just been awoken that he was enjoying seeing her so much. Deep down something told him that if this were really happening and if he wasn't so drugged that he wouldn't be reacting this way, that he would be in pain. But there was no pain now, just the same loopy butterflies that had always occupied his stomach when she was near. "I had an accident, Lucy, and now I-I'm just so tired," It was the same stupid lie he had used when Lola had come. It just seemed so innocent and that's how he wanted it to seem now. Not serious like it truly was, not serious like he had almost bled out on his dorm floor. "And I've slept so much," His eye lids drooped, his throat was beginning to feel dry from all the talking, clearing his throat his hand reached for her's. He hoped that none of the nurses would come in, see him sitting there holding onto nothing, talking to nothing, he didn't know what they would do then.

Sitting up a little more, the smile slowly faded. She was crying. He was always making them cry. His chest tightened his hand reaching up, his thumb catching a tear. His reaction was too delayed and none of what she actually said made any sense. She was gone, that was truer than true and he couldn't understand why he kept hearing about her return. "Please don't cry, pretty girl," The single drop on his thumb felt more real than anything, it gave him some distant hope that she would come back to him, for real next time, warm and in the flesh. The same feeling rushed over him when he saw Lola, like he might cry, like his eyes were going wet and the tears would spill out any minute. But the emotion was exhausting and he could feel himself slipping down into the bed again. Those glassy eyes just staring at what couldn't really be there. "W-when you leave again," Tim trailed off, his voice quieter than it had been previously, "Please take m-me." There was still some hope inside him, fluttering about his chest. She would come back and even after everything he had done she would love him, she would forgive him, everything would be okay. Even in a doped up state he couldn't imagine his life with any other girl. It was just her. It had always been her. And if she could forgive him for all the shit he had failed to do, all the promises he broke, then he could imagine himself living for a very long time, with her by his side. The thoughts were warming and it was much better than thinking about her crying, her cheeks wet with tears, he wanted to kiss them now. He was too weak, all he felt he could do was speak. Tim's lips formed a weary smile, "We can go to Disney World."

[worldsoldestprofession-blog]

Skinny Love |Tim&Lucy

Lucy stood outside of the slightly ajar door, her hands raised as if ready to push it the rest of the way open, she could hear the consistent beat of the heart monitor. She’d found Tim easily, he was the only one in the medical wing that night, or at least she hoped it was him. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried in vain to fight the tightness in her chest, the dryness of her mouth, or the tension in her stomach, but the feelings had refused to leave. They’d formed in quick succession after she heard that girl talk about him like… like he didn’t matter. As if his attempt was so unimportant in the world, as if it wasn’t earth shattering and deafening. She should leave, it was her fault he’d even tried to kill himself in the first place. All those things she said… the promises she broke. Lucy pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, pretending she was trying to gouge them out so she wouldn’t have to see her own face anymore. She exhaled, then put both hands around the knob, pushing it open in one swift motion. She stepped in, her feet frozen by the ice cold tiles of the hospital floor. The place had awful heating, and she shivered as she scanned her eyes along the ground. She didn’t want to see him, what if it was terrible? What if he was in a coma? Missing a limb? Still bleeding around the bandages? Or worse yet, what if it wasn’t him in that bed? What if the only patient in the infirmary was someone else, and Tim had really died but nobody had bothered to tell her. She swallowed, and wrapped her arms around her midsection, trying to hold herself together. 

Lucy raised her eyes and stared at the way he lay, his arms wrapped in cloth, tubes jutting out of the elbows and wrist, they almost looked like they were growing out of his skin in the dim light. His torso was wrapped thickly in bandage, she could see the white cloth covering his collarbone, the places she’d kissed along just a month before. Her feet set in motion without Lucy asking, and she had to grab the edge of the bed to stop herself from falling into his chest and start sobbing. She took in the sight of him, seeing more clearly where the damage had occurred. What the hell had he done to himself, the sight of his injuries sent her into a downward spiral, leaving her to imagine the most gruesome causes in her mind. She wanted to him hold her like he did whenever he saw her cry, kiss her hair, say ‘I love you, pretty girl,’ and then just keep her safe until the feeling passed. But he couldn’t do that, not with his wrists bandaged, or his chest healing. She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the burning skin underneath, and wondered if he’d hurt the places she fit against him on purpose. Get her presence out of his skin. Her hand recoiled at the thought, and she just focused on a spot on the sheets where none of him lay, she took a deep breathe. “I’m sorry for doing this to you Tim,” she wanted to touch him again, kiss his forehead and stroke his hair, but what right did she have? She’d destroyed a perfectly good boy by being petty and selfish, she closed her eyes and imagined what it’d be like to leave this room and walk straight off the roof without pausing in between. Maybe if she did she’d finally do something right.

[timbuttons-blog]

Sleep was all that Tim had. He couldn't imagine having to go back out there and wander those halls again, knowing he had failed everything he had done. So he slept, and he slept well for the first time in years. Of course, he wouldn't be sleeping if he weren't put away like this and heavily sedated. It had only been a day or two, hadn't it? He couldn't tell, everything blurred together, maybe that was from the drugs or maybe it was from sleeping so much. His sleep patterns were still incredibly irregular, even after being knocked out from the sedatives he still found himself waking every few hours. But it was good this time, good sleep, which was woken by nurses not screaming. This was the kind of sleep he had hoped for his whole time there at Westbridge. How long had it been then? He couldn't remember that either. All the little details leading up to the previous night were gone, nothing seemed to matter outside of that hospital bed, there was nothing left outside the tubes and the wires that had connected him to life. In the moments Tim was awake he wondered what it would have been like to actually die. He'd watch the nurse unwrap his arms, clean up the stitches, disinfect the area, and wrap it up again and wonder what it would be like if he had just gone deeper, if he had just saved up another handful of pills. The thoughts never stuck around long, usually when they were done wrapping him back up they would give him another dose of whatever it was in his IV and he'd be sailing back to dreamland.

This time the door opening barely pulled Tim out of his drugged induced sleep. With his eyes still shut tight he was simply aware of all the noises around him. He found it to be better to just try to sleep through all of it. If he didn't keep his eyes closed he started to see things, started to have conversations with people that weren't there. It was a terrifying feeling because that was what really crazy people did. But this nurse had come rather shortly after the last one. They had changed his bandages, cleaned some of the dried blood off his cheek, told him they called home, told him to rest, and they had left just like they always did and now they were back for whatever reason. The bleep of his heart monitor was lulling him back down, there didn’t seem to be much movement around the room, they must have just peeked in. Slowly and then all at once, Tim was allowing himself to settle back into sleep. But it wasn’t long, that sensation of falling engulfed his body and his eyes shot open only to see Lucy towering above his bed. It was happening again. If Tim weren’t sedated he might have been panicked, unsure of what to do what to say, but in this state there was nothing that was really real (even if her hands didn’t just go straight through him like he imagined an apparitions would). No, it wasn’t real. Lucy was gone, she had been gone. This was just a figment in his imagination. Maybe he just wanted another happy moment with her maybe that was all.

A groggy smile set onto Tim’s face, the words she spoke seeming to make no actual sense to him. “Pretty girl,” His voice small and weak like he must have looked in that bed, “Hi, pretty girl.” Tim blinked, he could allow this hallucination. He wanted just one more happy moment with Lucy.

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

Keep Breathing || Lola && Tim

[lola--grace-deactivated20130222]

Shaking her head softly, Lola knew she had to say something. She didn’t want him to apologize, she didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he’d already hurt himself. She knew he was guilty, she could see it in his eyes. And just her being here, sitting in this room, she wondered if she should just run out. He probably had hardly a clue she was there anyway, so it wouldn’t matter. But Lola felt as if she needed to stay, needed to say what she was thinking. Pursing her lips, she reached a hand over to where his lay on the bed, wrapping her thin fingers around it and squeezing, smiling lightly as she tried to get a response out of him. “You don’t have to say you’re sorry.” she said quietly.

Leaning back in the chair, Lola tried to collect her thoughts, her eyes squinting a bit. “I’m not here to make you feel bad.” she said finally, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You know, this girl I talked to downstairs, she asked me why I was still friends with you after everything..” she trailed off. “And I didn’t know what to say, I wasn’t sure how to explain, I just.. I love you, you know that? And you’re not alone, even when you feel like it. You’re like, the brother I wish I could have had.” Lola chuckled, wiping a tear from under her eye. “And I just thought.. I thought you were gone and I-I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to say that it doesn’t matter. That it never mattered.. we’ve all done stupid things and we’re all pretty messed up but maybe,” Lola stopped, taking a deep breath. “Maybe we’re a little less messed up when we all stick together. Maybe that’s the only way we can put ourselves back together again.”

[timbuttons-blog]

"You shouldn't be friends with me!" Tim burst, his fists clenching around the white sheets under her grasp. His voice was finally clear, maybe it was because he wanted her gone, maybe it was because it hurt too much to have the apparition around. "I should be dead," His voice cracked once again and he could no longer look at the figure that was Lola. What was all this? She didn't know what she was saying, she should be scolding him telling him what a shit job he had done, because that was the truth, he had failed at everything he had done. It was the drugs, he needed more, he needed to be knocked out, he needed this to be over and done with. "Fuck," Tim gasped, his hands finally relaxing back into the bed, it was the exhaustion that stopped the rage, his body was not capable of holding such a steady emotion.

Of course what she had said was a nice thought, that she loved him and that she felt like they were all family. But this wasn't a family for Tim. Family was the man and the woman back on the coast, that couldn't answer his phone calls. He'd been a lousy son, a lousy friend, a lousy boyfriend, he'd really muddled everything up and now here he was with someone trying to show that they cared and reacting in anger. "Y-you're just going to disappear," His voice was quiet again, no longer able to hold onto that little bit of emotion. He was tired and in any minute she would flutter away or drift off like a puff of smoke.