Chapter Text
Arguments in the apartment weren’t uncommon. Most of it dumbed down to banter and unresolved tension.
This was nothing like that. Casual baseless threats don’t end up with shouting quite this angry. They don’t end up with shards of glass littering the kitchen floor; proof of the destructive nature of a single disagreement blown out of proportion.
Ze didn’t even remember how the argument started, brain fuzzy from alcohol and high on adrenaline. ReGect had pried a little too much, poked too close to something that was still raw, and like a cornered stray animal Ze had snapped. One pushed the other, voices raising in volume. With drunken movements Ze had stumbled into the counter, a glass tipping and shattering on impact.
Regects voice rang out in annoyance.
“For fucks sake Ze! Fucking-“
Suddenly it wasn’t ReGect speaking anymore.
………
“Get up boy, you’re gonna pay for this.”
Everything was blurry. Pain coursing through every inch of his body as another kick hit his ribs. He curled defensively in a ball in a pitiful attempt to protect his stomach. Blood dripped from his face, mixing with the mud below. In the corner of his vision, he could see it. A small, pocket radio he’d accidentally knocked into during drills, it’s cover cracked and shattered - occasional garbled voices ringing out occasionally as if reminding him of the damage.
He tried to reach out to protect himself, to shield himself from the inevitable blow that was coming his way - yet his muscles couldn’t comply. Instead he found himself praying.
*Please take me out. Please kill me.*
The only thoughts that ran through his battered mind were silent pleads to a god he didn’t believe in. Utterly helpless in the mud and grime as cabins of boys pretended not to notice him.
All he could taste was blood.
All he could hear were his bones cracking on impact.
…….
Moe’s worried honks snapped him back to reality- shit the yelling must’ve woken her up. ReGect was still yelling about something, but all Ze could focus on was the shattering sound. The pain.
Pushing himself away, he decided needed to get out. Drunkenly turning around in an uncoordinated fashion before stumbling hurriedly up the stairs; ReGect’s yelling about the mess falling on absent ears.
Shit shit shit, all of it was coming back to him now. His mother’s face when he came back different, his Dad’s anger…not to mention the stench of rot and blood that followed him round that god awful bootcamp.
He couldn’t breathe, hands shaking as fumbled with his bedroom door handle. Clumsily stumbling around in the dark before locking himself in his bathroom. With a shaky breath, his knees gave in as he fell to the floor hard enough that it would bruise later.
For god knows long, Ze just sobbed.
Nausea clawed at his throat desperately as he pushed himself to kneel against the toilet bowl, dry-heaving in between sobs that left his throat burning and head aching.
At this point he didn’t know it was the alcohol…or the smell that was engraved into his memory.
He needed to feel something. Anything other than this.
Maybe this time he’d give in to the urges.
He promised himself years ago that he’d never do it again. That he’d never add to the countless scars littering his body.
But alcohol and years of repressed trauma clouded any trace of rational thought, so against his (nonexistent) better judgement he found himself rummaging half heartedly through his cabinet - forcing himself to ignore the bleach that eyed him tauntingly as he grabbed the first razor he saw.
‘Fuck. Pull yourself together Ze. This is a one time thing.’
Slumping to the floor against the toilet bowl, he held the razor in his palm. It’s weight alone grounding him between choked sobs and retches as he pressed it against his skin.
“Just one time.” He whispered, dragging the metal across the surface.
Once. Twice. Again. And again. And-
Oh.
Oh fuck.