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Ghoul ran his hands up and down on his thighs for the millionth time today, fingertips trailing across multiple scabbed ridges. He fucking itched with the need to cut, to slice his skin open just enough to keep his head quiet.
He lay face up on the mattress, staring at the bumpy texture of the ceiling, as if it was responsible for making him feel this way. Of course, it was his fucking fault, everything was always his fault. The failed food run where they lost all the supplies cause he couldn’t aim his gun to save his life. Their only radio breaking, sent flying off the workbench cause he was throwing yet another one of his tantrums. Kobra’s disappointed face as he watched him punch and thrash around like a spoiled child.
The ceiling seemed to stare right back, almost daring him to just get on with it.
There was a way to stop this. A way to stop his thoughts from spiralling like a whirlpool. It was also a one way road to his teammates thinking he was fucking crazy but hey, they probably already figured that out themselves already.
With the speed of a sloth, Ghoul hesitantly reached under his bed, fumbling around until he felt a certain cool metal tin. It felt like ice on his skin in the clammy night air, and it felt heavy, like it knew what was about to happen as much as Ghoul did.
Inside was a couple bandages, and a razor blade.
The razor slotted perfectly between his fingers, knowing its purpose after dozens of meltdowns and nights like this when his thoughts drowned out all reason. Ghoul kicked the sheets off his legs, staring down at the scarred skin of his thighs. His heart pounded in his ears, pressure in his skull ready to release with the first slice of the blade.
He cut.
Stomach churning with shame, he cut. slash after slice through his thighs, each cut spilling not only blood, but the self-hatred that made him so fucking insane in the first place. He lost himself in the motions, in the pain and the release of tearing himself apart.
Witch, thats a lot of blood. Of course, in his stupidity he forgot about the clean up. The calm after the storm. Ghoul sucked in a sharp breath, every movement bringing that blissful stab of pain back as he tried to manoeuvre himself out of bed whilst getting as little blood as possible on the bedsheets.
He padded his way to the diner bathroom, praying that nobody else was awake. Grabbing a wad of napkins, he gingerly tried to wipe the blood off his thighs, the slightest contact making them burn.
Footsteps in the diner. Ghoul froze, entire body going rigid. He held his breath, fucking petrified of being discovered in such a vulnerable state. If it was Jet Star, he’d gasp in horror asking why Ghoul would do this to himself and start lecturing him about infection and blood loss and whatever medic nonsense his brain spewed out. Party Poison would scoff, chastise him for cutting himself up like a teenager and for wasting even more resources on his “little tantrums”. He feared Kobra Kids reaction the most. He was terrified of that disappointed glare, eyes concealed behind his shades, just watching Ghoul make a fool out of himself. He couldn’t disappoint Kobra like that. He just couldn’t.
Ghoul shoved the napkins in his sweatpants, cheap paper clinging to the wounds uncomfortably, and tried to creep back to his room unnoticed. He got halfway back before he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Kobra. his hair was scruffy from sleep, falling over his eyes, which were, for once, not covered by his shades. He looked at Ghoul, half amused and half concerned at what was keeping him up.
“y’alright Ghoulie? Ya aint usually up this late.”
“Oh um yeah,” Ghoul’s voice cracked, “i was jus’- i jus’- uh… i couldn’t sleep”
Kobras eyes narrowed “Ya sure? somethings off” Of course he knew something was off, he could read Ghoul like an open book and it infuriated him, unable to hide anything from Kobra.
Ghoul just shrugged, feeling his stomach drop when Kobra started examining him for a problem. His eyes locked onto ghouls sweatpants and oh shit- blood was already starting to seep through. Screw those thin ass napkins.
Kobra’s eyebrows furrowed, an all too knowing expression on his face. He watched Ghouls face crumple in the dim light of the diner. He heard Ghouls breathing start to pick up as he continued to stare. Unsure of what to do, he stepped forward, gingerly placing a hand on Ghoul’s now trembling shoulders.
“Uh…. ya need help cleaning yourself up? Looks nasty.” He shrugged, feigning at nonchalance as he struggled to find words that would help.
Ghoul blinked. He wasn’t sure of what Kobras reaction would be, caught off guard by his lack of freaking out. He mumbled out a “sure”. Words were failing him, too.
Awkwardly dragging Ghoul by his shoulder, Kobra led them both into his room, sitting Ghoul on his bed and flicking on the lamp on his bedside table. The shorter man was practically trembling, his cut up thighs aching as he watched Kobra retrieve a med kit from somewhere in his wardrobe.
Kobras throat was dry from awkwardness. “Can ya.. um.. jus’ pull your sweats down a bit so i can see?”
Flushing slightly, Ghoul manoeuvred the sweatpants down, revealing a mess off blood, torn skin and soaked napkins. Kobra winced, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
The nausea inducing coil in Ghoul’s stomach finally snapped, sending anxious word vomit out his mouth. “Sorry- sorry im so fuckin’ sorry Kobes! I swear it was just this one time! ill stop! I dont wanna- i swear i was trying to… im not crazy Kobra, ya gotta believe m-“
Kobra stopped him with a firm finger to his lips, hushing him. “I know Ghoulie… im not judging ya, just lemme clean you up then we’ll talk, ok?”
Apprehensively nodding, he watched as Kobra peeled the bloody mass of tissue away from his thighs, wincing as the now drying blood made them stick slightly to the wounds. Kobra grabbed an antiseptic wipe from the kit, tearing the packet and softly rubbing across his thighs. Ghoul gasped at the sting when Kobra wiped over the cuts, softly hushing him. He rested his other hand on Ghoul’s waist, trying to ground him as he cleaned him up.
When he was done wiping away the blood, Kobra grabbed a bandage and started wrapping it around Ghoul’s thigh. Not wanting to feel completely useless, Ghoul fumbled around in the kit, grabbing the tape and using it to hold the bandages securely. They sat together in silence for a second after Ghoul pulled his sweatpants back up. Kobra gave Ghoul another one of his looks, one that bore directly into his soul to try to decipher exactly was racing through the mans mind.
Ghoul broke the silence. “Thanks man… y’know ya didnt have to do that, right? I had it figured out…”
Kobra scoffed. “You were running about the place with blood soaked tissues in your pants. Pretty sure you needed my help.”
“Fuck off” Ghoul responded, lightly thumping his shoulder affectionately.
The room fell into silence, and Ghoul realised that he should probably head back to his room. But as he moved to stand up, Kobra caught his wrist, dragging him back down.
“Do ya wanna stay here t’night?” He lost his confidence as he continued speaking. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for ya to be alone after…. this”
He regretted that last part as soon as it left his mouth, watching Ghouls expression turn sour.
“Hey- i told ya i wasn’t fucking crazy.”
“No, no thats not what i meant- what i was trying to say was…. oh fuck you.” He rolled his eyes as he saw Ghoul hold back a snicker, clearly just joking.
“Yeah… I’ll stay with ya, if it’ll stop ya from worrying all night.”
Kobra beamed, Ghoul basking in one of his rare genuine smiles. The fact that he himself pulled such a pretty face from Kobra made his stomach tremble with butterflies in a way he didn’t want to address.
He lay down beside Kobra, wrapping an arm around his middle as he pulled the blanket up over the both of them. Kobra lazily rubbed Ghoul’s hair as they drifted off in each other’s arms, to a much more blissful world beyond theirs.