Chapter Text
~~~Dipper~~~
Do you know it feels to just have everything fall apart? To feel so incredibly miserable that you start to wonder if there was ever happiness in your pathetic life. Dipper sure did. It’s how he’d describe his life every fucking day.
Everything was cracked and broken. Okay, wait, hold up. Everything wasn’t broken, he was the broken one. Yep, that sounded right. Everyone else lived in this shitty reality and yet, didn’t seem to regret every fucking second of it like Dipper did.
The thing is though, Dipper thought he’d be able to escape from all of this. He thought he could rid the world of a broken piece. He remembers the comfort and peace that flowed down his wrists before he shut his eyes - maybe that was the blood. Eh, same difference.
Dipper decided that waking up after your failed suicide attempt, had to be the fucking worse experience. Worse than every second of his shitty existence. The tranquil feeling had been crushed by opening his eyes to the shitty off-white from the walls. He was back to being pieces of broken glass taped together, or, he guessed, stitched together in this case, as he glanced down to his wrists. Dry, empty laughter left his throat.
Okay, so laughter was a bad idea because it woke up the old man who was sleeping on those cheep, plastic hospital chairs.
Dipper wasn’t ready and wasn’t ever going to be ready the pity, the scorn, the disappointment, and the ‘sadness’.
To those who pitied him - he’s not a fucking charity case, everyone can shove their patronizing pity up their ass
To those who scorned him - fuck off
To those who were disappointment - they don’t know his fucking life, and they don’t fucking get the right to be disappointed
To those who who feel “sadness” - Oh, please. Dipper knows full well no one actually gives a flying fuck about him. Besides his sister, maybe not even his sister anymore. That’s too painful to think about right now, so it’s pushed aside.
And if Dipper has to listen to those bullshit “You have so much live for”, he’ll kill himself again (both literally and figuratively) because, news flash, he doesn’t have “so much to live for”. That’s literally why he’s in this dumb hospital bed and some fucking speech isn’t going to fix that.
Damn, that old man was stirring. Maybe Dipper can pretend that he went back to sleep. That’s reasonable, right? That’s what people do in hospitals, sleep...right?
Fuck, it’s too late, that old man is already up.
“You’re awake” Great, observation there.
“How are you feeling?” Stan puts his hand on Dipper’s shoulder like Dipper’s his long lost son or some shit.
Dipper just stares up at the old man. He’s in the hospital for trying to take his own life, how does that fucking old man expect him to feeling. He almost wants to reply “Oh, just fucking dandy!”, but thinks it’s probably smart not to piss off the man paying his hospital bills (because god knows his parents wouldn’t) and probably his ticket out of this hellhole.
After a few moments of silence, Stan backtracks “Right, dumb question”.
~~~ Stan ~~~
Three days. Three fudging (He’s been trying lately okay?) days and Stan still didn’t know what to do.
The kid had tried to kill himself. He decided that it would be less painful if he killed himself.
Stan has a hard time wrapping his head around that idea. Even at his worse, he hadn’t considered killing himself.
Today was the day that Dipper was released. Maybe he should take the kid to get pancakes or something at the diner as a celebration of his release. Would that seem like he’s celebrating his attempt though? Or completely smother him? He imagined he would probably like to be left alone after coming home from suicide attempt. But what if it came off as if he didn’t care? Or worse, he was trying to ignore the incident?
He fuc- fudging (He was trying okay!?$;m&::) didn’t know.
After much debate, Stan deduced the pancake debate was too complicated.
He’ll try again tomorrow.
~~Dipper~~
The ride to his great uncle’s house was silent, but then again what was Dipper expecting?? This wasn't his sister. This wasn’t a loving- pair of parents. This was his distance great uncle he didn’t knew existed until three weeks ago.
Maybe he should be thankful for the silence. He didn’t have to hear another stupid speech (he already received two ) and he didn’t have to deal with the emotional drainage of having a conversation about it.
But still disappointed settled in his stomach. So maybe when he woke up with he old man sleeping in the uncomfortable chair, a tiny spark of hope was formed in his stomach. A tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would care notice if he disappeared.
But no, the silence confirmed, what he should’ve known all along. He was just a chore, a nuisance, that everyone was just waiting to be rid of. Why did he even think differently? Why on Earth would anyone care notice about him? He didn’t deserve that. He should’ve known better. He felt his emotions shut down and walls go up. A defense mechanism developed after living in abusive household as defect child, God, how Dipper loved his life.
He wondered briefly if his sister knew.He snorted at the idea. Of course she didn’t know. His parents wouldn’t want to unnecessarily distract her. Would she even care?
This was his third attempt. The last two times failed as well.
—
Never mind. We’re not going there.