“making cas sooooo pathetic”

hi love :D

for this drabble game

83. “I didn’t want you to see this.”

Flashes. Voices. Too many people. Too many hands. Too many eyes.

And Andrew didn't even have the energy to be mad about it.

Usually, he would want to take those cameras and smash them, or wield his knives to get people out of his face but he couldn't even bring himself to do that.

It wasn't like he had his knives anyway—he had to leave them behind for the court room.

When he got home, the first thing he did was take a shower. It was a good thing too, given everything that was festering in his chest, eating away at him like acid.

It all came spilling out beneath the hot stream of water, and before Andrew knew it, his vision had blackened. He couldn't feel anything anymore, not the heat on his back and shoulders, not the cold blade beneath his fingertips, nothing.

The only thing he was aware of was the sound of wood splintering somewhere in the distance, and the echo of a voice calling his name.

Pain split down his wrists, searing and hot like he'd been burned.

It was only when the water stopped beating on his back that he came back to the world, piece by brittle piece.

The bottom of the shower was tinted red as the water swirled around the drain, and Andrew was only aware he was crying because of the taste of salt against his tongue.

"Andrew! Fuck—"

It was Neil's voice calling him. Neil's hands that held a blood soaked towel to Andrew's wrists.

"Andrew! Look at me—answer me!"

"Neil," Andrew choked through a sob, a sob he fought against so hard he felt it crack within him. "Go. Get out."

"No!" It's was so ferocious it stunned Andrew into silence. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"M'not going to bleed to death, it is only—"

Any and all excuses died in Andrew’s throat. It had been years. Years since his last relapse. He vowed never to do it again, but looking Cass Spears in the eyes was too much. Hearing his brother recount the details of his rape was too much. Having to explain to the one person who was supposed to protect him that her son had spent years destroying him was too much.

It brought it all back. Andrew had felt his hands on him all over again, he'd felt like he was in that dark room, all alone, with no one but the devil for company.

The wail that split Andrew's throat was inhuman. This was it. He'd finally split open.

He could hear Neil's voice in the background and the dial tone of a phone. All Neil said was, "Bee, we need you." Then he hung up.

Neil would usually give Andrew his space but perhaps he recognized that giving Andrew space was problematic to his health and safety right now. Or perhaps he saw a rare need in Andrew's eyes.

Neil wrapped an arm around him, still keeping pressure on his wrist even though the bleeding had mostly stopped, and pressed an unforgiving weight to his back so that Andrew would curl against his shoulder.

Andrew felt like he was caving in on himself, an inch from the event horizon. Years spent repressing, running, hiding, and this was what it took to bring him to his knees—all it took was Cass' indignance.

“I didn’t want you to see this," Andrew hissed between teeth. "Leave—"

Neil sighed, and squeezed Andrew closer.

Alex: plays a video game too well

Damian Cray:

When you’re the smother-er and the victim.