Work Text:
Grian woke up for no apparent reason. He was in his bed, a quick glance at the clock told him it was 3:23AM. He turned around on the bed to find Taurtis still deeply asleep, but Sam was nowhere to be found. He realised the reason for the interruption of his slumber were some sounds coming from the bathroom. He got up from the bed and walked over towards the source of the noise. He already knew what was happening in there but, as he knocked on the door, his voice as soft as cotton, he asked.
“Sam? Everything alright in there?”
No response. He sighed. Another knock.
“Sam, is it alright if I come in?”
Still, no response. He opened the door.
Sam was kneeling on the floor of the bathroom, holding his arm. A bloodied knife lay in front of him on the floor, next to a red stain. Sam’s gaze was fixed on his arm. Blood coated part of the limb, flowing down to his elbow and dripping onto his white shirt. Not the first time Grian would have to clean blood from a white shirt.
One detail was off, though. Sam usually reopened old scars he’d already made, but this time the wounds didn’t match the previous pattern. Grian suddenly felt curious to learn the reasoning for the change, but he knew he wouldn’t get answers off of Sam when he was in this state.
He took a few steps closer to Sam, trying to get a good look at the new wounds. They seemed to be letters, but Grian couldn’t read them since from his perspective they were upside down. Plus the blood made it a bit more difficult.
“Sam? Are you there?” He asked, perhaps a bit too condescendingly.
“Isn’t blood beautiful, Grian?” Sam asked, a glazed-over look in his eyes.
He always did this. He was almost entranced by the sight of blood. Grian had managed to get him to not hurt others anymore, so he’d resorted to hurting himself just to see it, an old habit from when he was in the asylum that had now resurfaced. If only they could get him to see a therapist, maybe he’d stop harming people, himself or otherwise, but, knowing Sam, that was impossible.
Before cleaning the wounds up, though, Grian walked around the puddle of blood on the floor to stand next to Sam, focusing on the cuts on his arm. It was pretty gross looking, covered in blood, with some fat gushing out (man, those were really deep), but despite that, Grian managed to make out what Sam had carved into himself. There were two rows of all capital letters, both spelling out one word each. The top one said ‘Taurtis’ and the bottom one ‘Grian’. A wave of affection suddenly washed over Grian when he read their names. Yes, it was very gross and absolutely awful, but it was Sam’s way of showing how much he loved them. He probably shouldn’t encourage this behavior, but he couldn’t help the ‘awww’ that came out of his mouth. He felt the urge to hug Sam wash over him and, before he could consider it, he kneeled down and moved his arms around Sam’s neck, pulling him into an embrace. Sam moved his non-bloody arm to hold Grian’s, nuzzling his face into Grian’s neck. Grian’s shirt was probably stained with blood right now, but he found he did not care at that moment.
After a minute of shared silence, Sam finally spoke.
“My arm hurts.” He said, chuckling.
“Yeah, wonder why.” Grian muttered, but a smile tugged at his lips.
Grian got up, much to Sam’s disappointment, to get the first aid kit they kept in the bathroom cabinet, and got Sam to get up and put his arm under the running water. After the wounds were clean, he bandaged them up and then took Sam’s hand, looking at him reassuringly.
“Wanna go back to bed?”
“Yeah.”
The two went back to their shared room, where Taurtis was still fast asleep. Despite their clothes being covered in blood, the two simply got in bed, too tired to change. Oh well, they can change the covers in the morning.