Chapter Text
Norman’s eyes slowly opened, gradually adjusting to the darkness of the room. The moonlight poured in through the grated windows on the back wall of the bedroom, and the slow, steady ticking of the grandfather clock was a lull that threatened to send him back to sleep.
He flinched from the sudden chiming. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, instinctively looking to his left at Ray’s bed. It was empty. No, not just that. It was already made.
Norman frowned, puzzled. Had he already gotten up, giving up on sleep entirely? The boy hoped that the nightmares that plagued Ray’s childhood hadn’t returned to torment him again.
He disregarded that idea quickly. They were both 10 years old now, so childish nightmares shouldn’t be enough to make him fear sleeping… right?
Or perhaps, on a lighter note, Ray was so interested in a book he was reading that he got up early to finish it in the library. However, if that was the case, he could just read in bed, as such a quiet activity wouldn’t wake his sleeping siblings.
Turning the possibilities over in his head and overthinking a situation with plenty of reasonable explanations was making Norman become more and more awake. He knew it wasn’t rational, but something deep down was screaming at him to check it out.
His logic only came into focus after he was halfway across the room, his hand reaching for the doorknob.
This is stupid. What if he’s just getting water or something?
The wooden floorboards creaked and Norman’s slippers scuffed against the floor. He tread carefully, being extra careful as to not wake up his siblings or Mama. Soon enough he found himself standing outside the library.
He peaked around the corner. Just as he suspected, the door was ajar, and Ray was seated at the table in the middle of the room, book in hand. An oil lamp was on the table beside an open box of matches.
Ray sat perfectly still, not yet having noticed Norman at the door. After a few moments, Norman realised.
He wasn’t actually reading.
The flickering flames of the lamp made his eyes glow emerald as they stared into the fire. His expression was distant, unreadable.
The light across his face highlighted his features, shadows cascading over his pointed nose and spiked hair. It was only then that Norman noticed the dark bags beneath Ray’s eyes.
The sight made a small, almost inaudible sound escape Norman’s throat. A pathetic gasp of worry. Ray must’ve heard it, as his eyes refocused but he still didn’t look up when he spoke.
“You’re up early.”
Norman’s eyes widened before his gaze softened in concern. “So are you.”
He walked closer, but Ray still kept his eyes fixed on the fire, as if that would somehow make Norman retreat back to their room. But it didn’t. The chair beside him scraped the floor as Norman sat down and moved closer.
“What are you doing here?” Ray murmured.
“I could ask you the very same thing.”
Ray sighed, as if realising Norman’s inevitable persistence, and finally looked up at him.
“I couldn’t sleep.” He stated plainly.
“Me neither.” Norman lied. “I couldn’t get comfortable.”
He looked at Ray expectantly, giving him a chance to explain his own reason for sleeplessness before he had to ask himself.
The book in his hand slammed shut. Too hard. He placed it on the table.
“So you decided to come here? That’s unlike you.”
His voice remained quiet, but it was now laced with mild annoyance.
Guess he would have to ask then.
“You’re not gonna tell me why you couldn’t sleep?”
Ray looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “Just couldn’t.”
Stop trying to find something in nothing.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Norman frowned. He was expecting Ray to dodge the question, but he didn’t even bother to make an excuse. Maybe he knew that Norman would see through his lies anyway, so it was pointless.
Ray picked up the book again, eyes staying still on the pages and not moving. Probably a gesture to make Norman uncomfortable and leave. But he wasn’t going to give up, his worries for his best friend overpowered his discomfort by a long shot.
He remained silent for a few moments, words forming in his mind but struggling to leave his mouth. If he said one thing wrong, he could upset Ray and make him even less likely to open up. That’s the last thing he wanted to do.
“Regardless, why should I tell you when your own explanation was clearly a lie?”
Ray’s words pulled Norman from his thoughts. He smiled.
How dumb of me. Of course you would notice my dishonesty.
But you’re not gonna like what I’m about to say.
“I saw you weren’t in bed and wondered where you’d gone.”
Before Ray could protest, he continued.
“But your bed was already made.”
Ray’s shoulders tensed.
Of course you’d be that perceptive.
He didn’t speak, as if worried he would reveal too much. Whatever he said, however brief, Norman would be able to analyse it and uncover the truth. It was a losing battle, but still he remained silent.
“I’m just worried about you, okay?”
From the corner of his eye, Ray could see Norman’s eyebrows crease, his signature expression when he was concerned about one of the younger kids.
I’m older than you, not just a little kid who needs to be helped. I’m not a puzzle for you to solve.
“Give it a rest Norman.” His tone grew impatient. “I’m fine.”
You don’t know anything so don’t even try.
“You’re clearly not. I just want to know what’s going on so I can help. Is it so wrong for me to care about my best friend?”
Best friend.
The phrase stung Ray like venom. The implications sunk in, and they hurt.
Is that all I’ll ever be to you?
“No. But you need to understand when you’re going too far.” Ray’s voice edged dangerously towards shouting.
“I’m not, I just want to help!” Norman’s words became muffled. The ringing in Ray’s ears became louder.
You don’t get it.
“No!”
“Just tell me!” Norman lurched forwards, taking hold of one of Ray’s wrists. His thumb absentmindedly felt the skin beneath his shirt sleeve.
It was rough.
Norman’s hand froze. Time seemed to move in slow motion. Ray’s thoughts spiralled out of control as his mind caught up to Norman’s sudden action.
There’s no point in telling you.
You’ll never understand.
I don’t want to burden you.
I want to be more than best friends!
Norman yanked up Ray’s sleeve. His heart stopped. Ray’s other hand slammed down to cover his wrist, but it was too late.
The image was now ingrained in Norman’s mind. His arm was covered in marks. Norman moved his hand away to cover his mouth, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.
The silence was unbearable. Deafening.
Ray pulled down his sleeve, his head in his hands. Tears threatened to spill. His throat stung.
“This is why I told you.” Ray’s voice cracked as he cried.
“To give up!” He yelled, glaring at Norman.
Norman eyed the open matchbox, connecting the dots and tightening his hand over his mouth.
His eyes widened, unable to meet Ray’s.
No. I’ve gone too far.
“Damn it!” Ray choked out, his whole body shaking as he began to sob. “Why do you care so much?”
“I’m sorry.” Norman stated, his words barely audible. “I never…”
Ray sniffled, staring down at his lap. He looked down at his shaking hands, his vision focusing and unfocusing.
There’s no point hiding now. He can see right through me.
Norman didn’t know whether to stay or leave. He just sat there, unable to even comprehend what he just saw.
Eventually, he somehow managed to compose himself, leaning closer. “Ray…”
He waited. Ray could ignore him, or tell him to leave. Norman gave him the opportunity to do that, but he remained still.
“Sorry.” His voice came out in a pathetic whine. He’d long dropped the idea of hiding now, but he still made an attempt to be careful with his words. “I shouldn’t be mad at you. You had no idea…”
“I didn’t.”
I really didn’t.
The silence returned, briefly.
“Do you want me to go, or…?”
“Stay.”
The clear confirmation made Norman remain firmly in his seat. He hesitated before resting both his hands on the table in front of Ray, facing upwards.
Ray just stared at them. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeves, moving his hands forward and placing them in Norman’s.
Oh.
Oh.
Norman squeezed Ray’s hands as if to grasp him, to check if this was real, to make sure he stayed right there.
As long as I can hold you right now, you won’t be able to leave. Not ever.
The marks littered his arms, going up to just before his elbow. Norman felt his heart ache at the sight.
The words came out slowly, carefully. Not to overwhelm, but to test the waters and to comfort.
“Are these from today?”
He waited patiently for a reply, not wanting to rush the boy.
“Some of them are, but not all.”
So you’ve been doing this for a while.
“Can I ask why?”
Do you hate yourself?
Ray looked Norman dead in the eyes.
“Sometimes it feels better than talking.”
I deserve to feel pain.
That’s why the flames feel so good on my skin.
“I know I don’t understand what you’re going through, and I know it might be hard for you to talk, but…”
Norman gripped Ray’s hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his sadness replaced with an anger for what he had failed to prevent.
“I’m always here for you. You know that, right?”
His words were gentle but stern. Ray’s hands shook from Norman’s strong grip, the gesture more grounding than painful.
A few seconds, and then…
“I know.” Ray looked Norman in the eye. Again. “I know.”
The pure concern and care in Norman’s expression forced a tear from Ray’s eye. Then another. Then another.
Before he knew it, he was sobbing again. Norman rushed forwards, wrapping his arms around Ray and pulling him close in a tight hug.
The hug said everything that words didn’t need to.
I’m here for you.
We can get through this together.
I love you.
Ray immediately reciprocated, gripping the back of Norman’s cardigan as if it would keep him alive, pull him out of the waters he had been drowning alone in.
Now that his head had reached the surface,
he could finally breathe.
They were unaware of how long the embrace lasted, but by the time both boys pulled back, the sun was rising over the horizon, colouring the sky a gorgeous blue.
The same blue reflected in Norman’s worried eyes. Slowly, he pocketed the matchbox.
Ray didn’t protest.
He knew where he could get more matches.
No, don’t think like that.
I need to try, for Norman, and for myself.
Before another word could be spoken, the grandfather clock chimed again, and the hallway outside was filled with sounds of footsteps and excited chatter.
Norman took the lamp and blew out the flame before standing and holding out his hand.
Ray took it and stood up too.
They were still for a moment as Ray just stared at their intertwined hands, feeling his face go red.
Norman’s eyes widened, blushing too.
He slowly let go, immediately missing the warmth of Ray’s hand.
“Let’s go.”
He smiled softly at him before turning and walking towards the door.
Ray smiled too before following.
You got me Norman. As usual.