Work Text:
Will blinks awake, we'll rested, and gets up to take a shower. But as he stands a shock of pain in his upper right thigh disturbs him slightly. "Good fucking dammit" he mutters, looking down at his leg, dried blood left flowing down his leg. For a second he had assumed the events of the night before was just an elaborate, realistic, dream.
With new cuts a shower is less of an easy fee for being clean, and instead it's like a painful task that will just repeat the next day. Will lays back down ignoring the fact that he hadn't showered the day before either because he wasn't doing anything that day. Dried blood flakes off his skin and onto the bare mattress.
Will recalls the night before, Mike had left. He just said it 'wasn't working' and then walked out. After he left Will had sat alone in his room for a while, before reaching under the mattress and pulling out a small folding knife. He slashes over his skin in a quick but pressured motion, reaching a shallow stryo, again he slides it through his skin, and again.
He stares down at his leg, wounds filling with blood. That had been the first time in a while, and by a while I mean a week. Will feels his tears welling up below his eyes, but he quickly wipes them away with his sleeve. He stares up at his roof for a moment, before shifting to the side and letting his tears stain the mattress. He sobs for at most 10 minutes, before falling asleep. Letting his leg flow blood freely for him to clean up the next morning.
The next morning was not used to clean himself up, instead will layed in bed until he fell asleep again. Letting him go back to all safer place, where maybe Mike was still there, or maybe Will was a completely different person.