Dell

Fuck off

𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒓

𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅

“Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry. Just tell me you’ll come to me the next time you think about it.”

“I will. I promise, Max, I will.”

“That’s all I need then.”

“I… I’m still working on that part. I’m sorry…”

Max sighed once more but shook his head. “No, I… know what addiction is like. The hell it puts people through. I just never thought I’d have to see it in 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

Lysander winced, but it wasn’t because of his ribs this time. “I’m—”

“You wouldn’t do that to 𝘮𝘦? What about not doing that to yourself? Shouldn’t that be more important?”

Lysander pressed a hand gingerly to his ribs, wincing and pulling it back quickly.

“I do miss the numbness. On the bad days.”

He tried to pull in a deep breath to calm himself the way Dr. Lindsey would have told him to, but it sent white hot heat up his side, drawing a strangled hiss from him instead, curling tighter around himself on instinct.

Max sighed.

He hadn’t realized he’d looked away until Max’s hand was beside his face, blocking his line of sight. Not necessarily forcing him to look back at his husband, but not giving him much other choice either.

“I don’t want to relapse. I 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 relapse, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that to you. But I…”

“I didn’t have to… to think. Like I was on some sort of fucked up autopilot… my body just went where it wanted to go, said what it wanted to say. I didn’t feel the… the grief, or the longing or the pain. I didn’t have nightmares… when I did I didn’t remember them…”

Max had never hid his anger well, not as a child and not now as an adult, but Lysander could tell he was doing his best to hear him out.

“Numb?” he repeated skeptically.

Lysander nodded, swallowed hard to force the bile back down.

Every instinct in him said to deny it, deny it or refuse to answer at all, but he wouldn’t lie, not to Max.

“I… sometimes,” he admitted, voice a hoarse whisper. “I try not to. I know… I know I shouldn’t but… it was so easy. Being numb.”

Lysander swallowed. He knew what Max was asking, but he wished he didn’t. “What?”

“The drugs. And the booze. Do you miss it?”

The familiar prick of bile rising in the back of his throat tried to choke him.

Lysander nodded. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, quieter this time. The words felt strange in his mouth. He didn’t apologize often, was rarely sorry for the things he did, but he was sorry for this.

Max stared back at him, jaw working as he thought.

“Do you miss it?”

“I’m sorry… for the shit I said yesterday. It was stupid. I was being a dick.”

Max huffed. “You were a fucking jackass, is what you were.”

we really do shits crazy

its been like three irl years

pal ran away once when the boys were children and the game said never forget

Last night I had to explain pulley systems and then also skinwalkers

“I just…”

“Needed to clear your head,” Max finished for him.

Lysander gave him a weak smile.

If he wasn’t so sure one of his ribs was definitely broken, Lysander would have laughed. That was probably for the best though; he didn’t think Max was trying to lighten the mood.

“I promise it wasn’t.”

When he finally crawled into bed and collapsed into the mattress, he felt Max climb in beside him.

He curled up on his side and Max turned to face him.

“This better not have been some fucked up ploy to get me to talk to you again.”

He had to use the wall to hold himself up for most of the shower. Towards the end, he gave up and sat down.

The scalding water soothed aching muscles though, washing away the dirt and blood that had dried to his skin already. He would have fallen asleep there, but Max opened the door to nudge him.

Max led him to their bathroom, cutting on the shower before turning back to Lysander.

Grabbing the edge of Lysander’s shirt, he lifted a brow in question, and Lysander nodded.

Wordlessly, Max helped him undress.

Yes but that’s HIS mere mortal🙂‍↕️

Max gave an indignant huff. “You are so fucking stupid,” he told him, and Lysander was ready to nod his agreement, but Max wasn’t finished.
“Come on, let’s go.”

And then Lysander was following him up the stairs. He wasn’t sure when his feet had begun moving.

“I just told you. I had to clear my head.”

Max stared at him for a long time. Even as out of it as he was, Lysander could see how upset he was.

“I’m sorry,” he tried weakly.

Lysander swallowed thickly. “I needed to clear my head.”

“He asked Harlow to beat the shit out of him,” Ren translated, and Max made a horrified noise.

“Why?!” he yelled, Lysander’s ears ringing at the volume.

“I just need… a shower… and a nap. Then I’ll be fine,” he promised, but Max was already across the room.

“What the fuck happened?” he demanded as he inspected injuries, eyes roaming bruised and bloody skin.

“Oh my fucking god?!” was the first thing out of Max’s mouth when the slide of the front door opening drew his attention from the laundry he was doing.

Belatedly, Lysander realized Max would not like this.