Archive of Our Own

It's spinning and spinning and spinning. The surge of emotions is eating you alive. Your soul cries out for something, anything. Nothing. You thought it would be okay, you were getting better. You thought you could stop taking your meds, that you could survive on your own for once. Oh how wrong you were, how weak you are. It had only been a few days but the darkness inside is grasping you, the numbness clawing at your rotting heart, the pain burning in your throat. It hadn't been this bad in a while. As the world spun you sat there, with bleary eyes you looked at the clock.

9:43 AM

You were supposed to be at the association by now, you can't call out sick again. You can't give in. You failure. You useless piece of trash. You idiot how could you do this again. You said you were better. So weak you have to rely on a little pill to keep you sane.

It's getting hard to breath. The warm blanket drawn over you starting to suffocate you. You can't move you don't have the energy. Why is someone like you even alive, why are you still here. You were supposed to end it years ago why are you so selfish to think you could breathe freely. How dare you. How could you do this to everyone. Someone, anyone, please, save me, help me, talk to me. But you were alone, your silent pleas for help gone unheard and still unwelcome. No one was going to come for you. Not now, not ever. You might as well stop now so that your existence can't bother anyone else-

"Darling?"

A voice. His voice, his precious voice.

"Darling?" a little louder this time.

Loud enough to bring you from your stupor. Your tear filled eyes saw a blurry face, a face you cherished and knew well.

"Z-Zayne?" your voice still hoarse from disuse.

"My love are you hurt? You don't have a fever, is everything okay?"

"Wait why are you here? I thought you had a shift today." You bring your hand up to clear your very runny nose, a poor attempt to hide the sob session gone wrong you were having.

"That isn't important right now. You are very clearly hurt by something, please do not hide from me."

His hazel eyes looked at you intently, as if piercing into your soul and dragging out all you wished to keep hidden.

"I'm fine, really, I just overslept a little. Don't worry about me."

This was a bad attempt at comforting him. Your avoidance only made your evident pain that much more clear.

"Dear, you and I both know that isn't true. You texted me this morning saying you were getting ready to go. Please do not insult my intelligence with these lies."

His scarred hands cupped your face now, tender despite the obvious fear in his eyes, a slight tremble overcame his calm demeanor. His thumb brushed away a tear, thumb warm against your wet cheek.

You couldn't say anything. You didn't know what to say or how to say it. How could you do this to him, when all he has ever done is be good to you? How dare you bother him, burden him, hurt him like this. How could-

"My darling I can see where your mind is right now and I am telling you to stop. You are not a burden, I love you. I adore you. You are not hurting me."

"But-"

"No buts. You have said the same thing to me on a number of occasions."

You couldn't speak, for fear you would start to cry, so you nodded. Your lips still trembled and your vision was still spotty but now you had your pillar with you.

"You don't have to explain everything, but you need to answer one question for me."

You nodded again.

Zayne leaned closer now, he was kneeling by the bed so his gaze was peering up towards yours. His eyebrows close together from distress, glasses fallen slightly down his noce.

"Have you been adhering to your medication that the psychiatrist prescribed?"

Your breath hitched, your eye said it all. He stood up and walked over to your dresser where you had placed the wretched orange bottle for safe keeping. Every step he took towards it taunted you. How could you do this, how could you do this knowing the consequences? He was going to hate you now, he was going to leave. He should leave.

He opened the bottle and looked at the date it was filled, counting each pill in his hand. He sighed and put the pills back into the bottle and closed it. When he turned to face you that's when the dam broke open.

"Please. Please I'm so sorry Zayne. I thought I could do it, I thought I could make it. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad, I'm sorry. I thought I was strong enough."

You were curled up in the bed, your incoherent cries muffled by the mattress. Your fingers tore at your hair, trying to do something, anything, to make it stop. Your sobs turned into chokes as you struggled to breathe.

You don't know when it happened but at some point Zayne had crawled into your bed and had enveloped you in a hug. He gently stroked your back as he held your head against his now unbuttoned collar.

"It's okay. I'm not mad I just wanted to determine a possible source of the pain." His hand remained firm and comforting at your back.

You finally looked him in the eyes, "So, you're not mad at me?"

Your breath was still labored.

"You are correct my jasmine, am I worried? Yes. But that's just a part of loving a person as much as I love you."

Your heart swayed as his words surrounded you like a warm hug.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. Don't be sorry for something clearly out of your control. We will work through this together."

He brought his lips to your forehead in a comforting kiss.

"Okay." Your breath now coming in uneven but calmer now.

"That's my good girl."

Your cheeks burned at the praise, he really does know how to get you going.

"I-I still have to go to work."

"I called out for both of us, you need to rest and I wish to stay with you is all."

You both knew he meant he didn't want to leave you alone in this precarious state but he chose not to say it out loud.

You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it.

"And I will not hear any contention on the matter." He kissed your forehead again, this time trailing down the side of your face onto your cheek.

The pain was still there, but now so was he.

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