Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Reese hated it. He hated how he couldn't understand the most simple algebraic formulas, or what certain words mean, or the basics of biology, even if he tried. So he didn't, Reese had given up on school a long time ago. He tried to find what he was good at, but there was nothing. Except for the cooking, but that wasn't a redeemable quality; lots of people could cook just as well as him. It couldn't make up for the pranks, the sabotages, or the beatings he would give.

It's not like Reese wanted to hurt them, it's just that there was nothing else he was better at. Seventeen years and he had nothing to show for it. Everyday it made him feel more and more worthless as he watched Malcolm complete his assignments on time, with a guaranteed 100%. Dewey had a talent for music, and he could always manipulate Reese because he could never realize when he was being messed with soon enough. Even Francis had his life together at this point, working at Otto's Grotto and getting paid more than he deserved.

In truth, Reese was scared. He didn't know where he would end up in the next five years. When Reese was scared of something, he never faced it head on. He threw punches at whatever was bothering him. But how do you beat up your future?

He was the only one to blame for this, for all of it. He had inflicted so much pain upon other people, and now it was his turn. I deserve this, Reese thought as he started walking to the kitchen, finding a sharp carving knife and holding it against the pale skin on his wrist.

Reese applied pressure and dragged the blade across his wrist, feeling the pain he had become so used to over the last few months. He watched as the blood pooled out of the cut he'd just made before realizing he had to clean up the mess he'd made. He ran his arm under water that would switch back and forth between hot and cold, due to faulty pipes, with Reese flinching every time it changed.

He waited until the water ran clear - or as clear as their water got - then rinsed the knife and left it in the sink. Reese carefully rolled down his sleeve, wincing at the friction it created against the new cut. He slowly walked out to the living room and turned the TV on to a channel playing a stupid cartoon that he wasn't interested in. He found himself zoning out, painfully aware of how stupid he must look as he sat in front of the TV.

Malcolm walked in, slamming the door behind him. The sudden noise caused Reese to jump. His younger brother threw himself onto the couch next to Reese and sighed. Malcolm noticed as Reese shifted away and frowned, but instead of bringing it up, he focused his attention onto the TV screen in front of them.

Every once in a while, Reese would shift nervously, but Malcolm knew Reese didn't get nervous, at least not when it was just them. He was getting fed up with Reese; every time his older brother moved, he would have to adjust himself as well.

"Okay, what's the matter with you?"

Reese looked like a deer caught in headlights, "What do y-you mean?"

Malcolm caught the stutter in between the words and raised his rounded eyebrows. "You've been fidgeting around ever since I sat down, it's getting annoying."

"Oh," Reese looked away from Malcolm and sighed, standing from his spot on the couch. "I'm sorry," he apologized before slowly walking back to the room they all shared together.

Malcolm was left staring wide-eyed at the hallway Reese had just gone down. His older brother had apologized. He hadn't thrown any insults or punches at Malcolm, he hadn't even tried to start any sort of argument between them. He just.. apologized.

Once Malcolm had gotten over the inital shock of Reese's apology, he quickly made up his mind and went to follow Reese. He walked in, seeing Reese lying on his bed, staring straight at the ceiling. He wasn't tossing a ball against it, or even glaring at the structure; just.. looking. His face showed no sign of emotion, but his eyes looked so sad. Malcolm didn't know what to say or do. Reese had never been like this before.

"Reese?" Malcolm started tentatively.

Just the same blank stare in response; it was as if Reese hadn't even noticed he was there. Malcolm moved to sit on his and Dewey's bed, sitting across from Reese. "Are you okay?"

Reese didn't even blink. Malcolm waited for him to break into a grin and tell him this was all a joke, but he didn't. The silence was eerie.

"Reese, please answer. You're scaring me."

Reese turned to face Malcolm, who was shocked to see the sadness he knew his brother wanted to keep hidden. Malcolm tried to think back to the last time he had looked at his brother, really looked. It'd been months since he'd given his brother more than a glance, and even then he remembered that Reese's eyes didn't hold the same mischievous twinkle they once had.

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Reese knew he was acting suspicious, with the way he had only been wearing long sleeves for months now, and how he hadn't beaten anyone up in two weeks - a new record. He'd become reclusive, more so than usual. He avoided talking to his brothers, and even his parents noticed he hadn't been eating or arguing as much as he used to. Lois had originally assumed it was some sort of scheme to manipulate her, but she let it slide for the time being since she enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Reese could tell Malcolm was worried about him. When Malcolm saw that he was only picking at his food, his younger brother would give him a very careful jab, as if Reese were some fragile object that could shatter with one wrong move, and in a way he kind of was. No one else had seemed to pick up on this, however.

That night at dinner, Hal pointed out, "Reese hasn't cooked anything for dinner lately."

"I haven't been feeling up to it," Reese said to explain, and with the family's eyes still focused on him, "I think I'm just going to go to bed now, okay? I haven't been feeling well."

Lois excused him from the table. Malcolm finished the last of his green beans and followed after Reese, who was back staring at the ceiling with that solemn expression.

"Please tell me what's going on," Malcolm skipped straight to the point.

"It's nothing, Malcolm," Reese answered.

Malcolm was surprised his brother had actually replied, he'd grown so used to Reese being unresponsive. "I really miss you. Reese, please let me help."

"You can't, Malcolm. This is my problem," Reese wanted the conversation to end already.

"Reese, you can't just-"

"Look, Malcolm. Just because you're the smart know-it-all doesn't mean it's your job to solve everyone's problems, okay? Especially not mine," Reese pulled his comforter over his head and turned away from Malcolm. He felt bad immediately for what he had said, but he didn't have the energy to apologize.

Malcolm was shocked. Reese had never snapped at him like that. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered before leaving.

Reese wanted to scream at him to come back and tell him that he really need him, but thinking of how pathetic that sounded, Reese decided against it. This was his problem, after all.

Later that night, Reese couldn't seem to fall asleep. He had become used to the sleepless nights, however. He three the comforter down to his feet and turned to face the bed Malcolm was in. He was met with ocean blue eyes that he could recognize in any lighting.

"Can't sleep?" Malcolm whispered, his voice cutting through the silence.

"Not for month now," Reese admitted.

Malcolm noticed the dark bags under Reese's eyes and frowned.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Reese started apologizing. "You were only trying to help."

"I shouldn't have pushed," Malcolm agreed, since the outburst was his fault.

"It's just been really rough, you know?"

"What do you mean?" Malcolm sat up, giving Reese his full attention.

"I just haven't felt like myself lately," Reese explained.

"I noticed. I've been so worried, Reese."

"Hey," Reese sat up, motioning for Malcolm to join him on his bed. "Everything's gonna be fine."

Malcolm felt Reese's arm against his shoulder and he leaned into the unfamiliar touch. "I just don't know what I'd do without you, Reese."

"You'll manage. You've got your brains."

"I know, but I'd rather be stupid than lose you. You're my brother."

Reese sighed, tightening his grip on Malcolm's shoulder. "I'm sorry," Reese breathed, letting his chin rest on the shorter boy's head, the small curl tickling his face.

Malcolm didn't seem to have heard him, he was listening to Reese's steady heartbeat. His beating heart gave Malcolm the reassurance he needed that his brother was safe.

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Reese had skipped. It was 2:15, meaning he had exactly an hour to do what he needed to. He thought about leaving a note, but he thought wit would be too sloppy and sound too stupid. Reese calmly walked to the small bathroom, feeling tears slip down his cheeks that he didn't bother to wipe away. His chest ached..the same chest Malcolm had fallen asleep on less than 24 hours ago. He'd miss his younger brother, but Reese knew this was the only way to help his family.

The seventeen year old rummaged through the pill cabinet, looking for anything he could overdose on. He pulled out an expired bottle of Advil and whatever other antibiotics he could find. He dumped each bottle's contents into his hand and without a second thought, started swallowing. Reese felt like his throat had been set on fire. His back hit the wall and he slid to the floor. He'd been calling himself worthless up to this point, until suddenly Malcolm's frantic face came into view. Reese could only watch as Malcolm made a call.

"Hello? I just got home from school and my brother.. oh my God," Malcolm was talking very fast and seemed to be crying. "Reese?"

"Hm?"

"What happened?" his brother sounded so far away.

"I'm a monster," Reese slurred. "I deserve this."

"Reese, no.. I-" Malcolm choked on a sob. "okay, please stay awake. Focus on me."

"No, Malcolm. I'm a monster," Reese repeated as he felt another tear fall. "Monsters deserve to die."

"You're not a monster, Reese. Please believe me."

"I'm sleepy, Malcolm," Reese felt his eyes fluttering shut. He could hear Malcolm telling him not to sleep, but Reese was too tired to pay attention.

Malcolm was hit with the sudden realization of what had been going on as the paramedics burst into the bathroom, taking Reese from Malcolm's arms and putting him onto a stretcher. Malcolm followed as they attached a breathing mask to Reese's face and heaved him into the back of the ambulance.

Malcolm held Reese's still warm hand all the way to the nearby hospital. As soon as the van came to a stop, the back doors were thrown open and Reese was being taken inside. Malcolm heard orders being thrown from person to person.

"Hey, kid?" one of the paramedics stopped him from following them beyond the waiting room. "You're going to have to wait out here."

"Malcolm didn't argue, instead he went to find a seat in the waiting room. After a couple of hours the same paramedic came out.

"Hey, have you signed in yet?" she asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

Malcolm shook his head in reply, not trusting his voice.

"Okay, that's perfectly fine. How old are you again, sweetie?"

"I'm sixteen."

"Can I get your name so I can call your parents?"

"It's Malcolm Wilkerson."

"Got it, I'll be right back."

"Hey, miss?" Malcolm got her attention. "Is my brother okay?"

"The doctor's are doing all they can."