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It felt cold in his hands, a familiar yet distant feeling, a sharp, small comfort that he swore not to indulge in again.
Toby thought he had gotten better and, with full honesty, he truly had, his mind was clearer than before and his heart wasn't heavy like it used to be, but still, he wasn't made of iron. His body was a fragile and thin piece of paper to be written on, a testament of suffering that didn't lead him to pain, as it should. Maybe that's why he did it, to see if one of these times he'd feel a sharp sting running over his body, connecting every cable inside him and making him a normal human being. Or maybe it was because he liked seeing the redness poke through his skin, like small bloody pearls that decorated his thigh. Toby wasn't sure, but he found himself doing it again after so much time.
His hand trembled, small blade almost falling out of it as he slid it again, not a hiss nor grunt escaping him, but the tears were evident in his gaze, he was pouring. Why couldn't he feel it? No matter how hard he dug, there was nothing, nothing, not even a sting that could wake him. He sometimes feared that his body would continue shutting down, his nerves slowly giving out more and more until he couldn't even feel a light brush on his skin. He wouldn't want that, of course he wouldn't, what kind of monster would he be then if he couldn't feel the softness of his partner's hands on him? The gentle massage of his dads' fingers brushing through his hair? He couldn't have that, he couldn't turn into that.
Maybe that's why, after so much time, he had found his old blade and was staining his bedsheets with blood, to wake up his body so it wouldn't fall into a deeper slumber, so his remaining functioning nerves wouldn't betray him. He wasn't going to let himself turn into a bigger freak than he was now, this was his punishment, his way of keeping in line with himself. His thighs were a mess of thick, warm blood, cuts disorganized and violent, each different depth, since he couldn't care to make them look pretty. He wasn't pretty, when he looked in the mirror he only found a monster staring back, this was the decoration he deserved.
Toby's head fell back into the wall behind him as a sob broke through his body. This wasn't what he should be feeling, according to how well life was going for him lately. He had two loving dads and a boyfriend to support and celebrate him, he shouldn't feel the need to harm himself, and still here he was. The human mind worked in misterious ways sometimes, even if one had everything they need, it might not feel enough, though for Toby it was more than he deserved. He dug the blade one last time, making a deeper cut in the upper part of his thigh, near his pelvis. His body trembled due to exhaustion, but he still felt fine, the high of blood rushing through his body as exciting as it was dangerous.
He wiped his tears, probably smearing some blood on his cheeks, and took a deep breath. He wanted Jack. He wanted Tim and Brian. He needed someone to tell him that what he was doing was wrong, but he found himself unable to move from his bed. Did he deserve someone rescuing him after willingly doing this? After mauling his body into a red mess? His lip curled into a painful pout when he remembered how nicely and lovingly they talked to him, like he mattered, like he was loved. He remembered how Tim and Brian told him he could come to them and tell them anything, no matter what it was. Jack always told him he was going to be there for him, to love him and embrace him.
He felt stupid for what he had done. He was getting better, why did he have to ruin it again?
His shaky legs lifted him out of the bed and into his bathroom, a small trail of blood following him to the shower. He turned the water as hot as he could, soon the blood mixing with it and escaping to the drain in a swirly motion.
Toby's skin turned red as the scorching water hit his newly made scars.
Still, he felt nothing.
Toby didn't expect Tim and Brian to return so early from their grocery trip, but he tried to not act surprised and got up to help them put everything in order in the kitchen, his legs a bit tired and heavy, but doing their best to move him around discreetly. He wanted to tell them about what he had done, it was like he had a thorn deep in his heart that he desperately needed to pull out to feel better, but his throat didn't seem to work. Tim and Brian laughed and made jokes to each other as they organized the produce in the fridge, Toby didn't want to disturb their peace, it wasn't the right time.
Several hours passed and it still wasn't the right time, not even when they were watching a movie peacefully in the living room, the mood more relaxed now. Toby felt guilty, he didn't want the attention to turn to him so harshly and in that context. He also didn't want them to get mad at him for relapsing, though he knew that probably wasn't going to be the case, but still there was something back there in his mind that told him otherwise. His eyes prickled with tears from now and then when he remembered what he had done, but he didn't say anything.
When he mustered up the courage to stand up, it was almost midnight, and they had finished having dinner and watching their second movie of the day. Tim and Brian sat comfortably on the couch when Toby stood in front of them, gaze down as he played with the string of his pajama pants nervously.
—Something up, Tobes? —Brian asked, eyebrow cocked curiously as he tried to scan the boy's face, though his hair was on the way.
Toby didn't answer. He kept on fidgeting while looking away, which was definitely not helping ease his dads' minds. He tried to mumble something, but his voice sounded weak.
—Eyes up, Toby —Tim reminded him, still trying to fix his bad habit of looking away when talking— Can't really hear you, son.
His neck moved ever so slowly, revealing sunken eyes that were already leaking tears silently, cheeks flustered. Toby bit his lip to silence himself when Tim and Brian sat straight on the couch, having a full body reaction to his state.
—Hey, hey what's wrong, sugar? —Tim whispered, not wanting to get closer to him yet, just in case.
—I- uh, I'm s-sorry...—Toby started, not being able to control his sobs anymore. He hid his face behind his forearm, the sleeve of his pajama covering it completely.
—No, love, none of that...—He heard Brian say gently, a hand reaching out to grab at his sleeve— Look at us, Toby, you're alright kid...
He did try his best to hold his gaze towards them, but it was so hard seeing two pairs of eyes looking at them with such worry written in them. Toby wanted to look away, but Tim's hand squeezed his own, making him focus on him as shaky breaths came out of his mouth. Tim looked at him with a calm expression and a very faint smile, trying to transmit that they were waiting for him to be brave enough to talk.
—I h-haven't been f-feel-huh-feeling so good lat-t-t-tely...—He let out, his stutter mixing with his sobs and making it difficult to talk.
—Oh my sweet baby...—Brian couldn't help but whispering, hand now also holding Toby— I'm sorry to hear that.
—But you've done right to tell us, Toby —Tim added, squeezing his hand— You know we're always here for you, no matter what.
Toby knew they would say something like that, and that only made him feel even worse, a loud sob escaping him. He knew that if he was having destructing thoughts he could tell them or Jack and they would help him, but still he decided to go the "easy" route and hurt himself. He felt ashamed of it, but now that he had shown himself he couldn't back out.
—What do you mean though, sugar? What has been going on through that mind?
Brian's question was uncomfortable in his ears, he didn't really want to answer it straight away, nor give him a long, detailed explanation. His chest still hurt and his hands trembled, he couldn't really speak for long in this state. Toby shook his head, receiving a hum from Tim.
—Comfort now, talk later then —He said lightly— That's also fine, precious.
—I h-haven't m-made shit good d-decisio-ons...—Toby cried, hoping that would help explain it, since he couldn't really put it into words.
—I don't really get what-
Tim paused for a second, biting his tongue as he looked down. Brian had seen it too.
At the sudden stop, Toby looked away from them, down on himself, discovering what had made them petrified. He had tried his best to clean and cover his cuts, but his shaky hands weren't made for such care, so his bandages had probably moved around and dragged over his wounds, making them bleed again all over his grey pajama trousers. His breath hitched at the awful sight, the blood too abundant it was sort of scary from another perspective. He was about to break into sobs while he asked for forgiveness over and over again, but Tim spoke quicker.
—Oh love...—He whispered, kissing Toby's knuckles—My boy... It's okay, we're not mad at you, we promise sugar.
—B-But I was getting fuck b-better...—Toby sobbed, tears running down his cheeks shamelessly.
—You know recovery takes a long time, son— Brian added, now rubbing his son's arm affectionately— Relapsing is part of healing, as bad as that sounds. You're not supposed to get better all of a sudden, what's important is that you keep on going.
Toby had heard this before, since when he met Tim and Brian he had still a lot of problems with his habit of his, and he had internalized that thought, but it still went blurry in his mind from time to time. He was sad that he had broken his record for being stupid and not ask for help when he had it right there, but what's done is done.
—And we know you're strong, Toby. Hell, you might even be the strongest person I know —Tim continued— We know you want to get better, and you will, because you've got it in you, kid. And we're going to be by your side every step of the journey.
—I'm s-sorry...—He still whimpered, unable to contain it further— I sh-should have a-asked for help-p...
Brian couldn't keep it to himself anymore, so he decided to stand up and wrap his arms gently around Toby's body, making him put his head on his shoulder. Toby was taller, so he had to bend a bit in order to fit, but he let himself feel smaller in his dad's arms, covering his shoulder in tears.
—It's alright, asking for help is hard baby. But it's great that at least you came to us now willingly.
—Yeah, that's very brave Toby —Tim added, now also standing up and hugging Toby from the other side— You're so brave for telling us. I'm sorry we didn't notice you were feeling so poorly though, maybe we could've helped sooner...
Toby shook his head. It was his fault for not being open and sincere with them and himself, Tim and Brian didn't have anything to blame themselves for. They couldn't read his mind, so it was Toby's job to tell them if he was feeling down, so if anyone was to blame here was himself. He didn't say it though, he just kept shaking his head and hoped that was enough for them to understand. Tim kissed the top of his head lovingly, one hand tracing soothing circles on his back as Brian rocked him from side to side gently. There was guilt in their hearts because it was their responsibility to take care of their son, to make him feel alright and protect him, but they had failed, they had let him out of sight. Still, punishing themselves wasn't going to solve anything, that was not the priority.
—Did you clean them, though? —Brian stepped back just a bit to look at his son's face, using his thumb to clean his cheeks— Be honest, please.
Toby nodded, head stuck in that movement involuntarily for a bit.
—Didn't do a g-great job, though...—He added— And my b-bandages have fallen...
—That's no problem, mind if dad takes care of that for you? —Brian asked, a soft smile showing his teeth gap.
—Thank y-you...
—No need to really, sweetheart—Tim added, gently massaging his shoulders— We just want what's best for you
—Go sit with papa bear, I'll get what I need —Brian smiled.
Once more, Toby nodded, letting himself be guided back to the sofa as Brian left the room to look for his first aid kit. He sat on Tim's lap, as if he was a child, embraced by his warm arms. Tim kissed his head again before rubbing his ear softly.
—My cub...—He breathed, the pet name matching the one Brian had for him sounding overly cute— You're alright, we've got you... You don't need to worry about anything, we're gonna take care of you sugar, you'll feel better in no time you'll see.
—Papa...—Toby mumbled, sobs now a bit softer, making Tim look into his eyes— Can I sleep i-in your room to-tonight? Please?
A chuckle escaped Tim's lips. Oh, this boy, who could tell he liked holding his victim's hearts while they still beat? His eyes were kind, his heart golden. Tim's chest felt heavy, he felt like someone like Toby didn't deserve suffering so much. If he could, Tim would take all his sorrow and transfer it to himself, just so he could save Toby from it.
—Sure thing, sugar —He replied with a smile, hand running through his son's hair— It's great that you asked, that's very brave, even if you know you don't really need to ask, you can just come stay there whenever you want.
Toby felt as the corners of his lips curled upwards by themselves, a shy smile appearing in his face as Brian entered the room with his supplies, delighted at the sight. Though Toby would've loved to stay small on Tim's lap, that position was going to be difficult for Brian to work in, so he laid on the couch with his head on one of the armrests and his legs stretched over Tim's lap. As Brian put on his gloves, he untied the string of his trousers and pulled them down to his knees, suddenly feeling ashamed of his position. It's not like they hadn't ever seen Toby in his underwear or naked—in fact, being nude was not shameful nor uncommon in their house—but the context was different, he mostly felt vulnerable, blood covering his thighs as if he had just killed someone. Nonetheless, Tim and Brian weren't feeling the same way, they were mostly concerned for how deep and violent his wounds were.
—What did you use, love? —Brian asked casually, trying to clean up as much blood as he could with gauze and some hydrogen peroxide, though he had to constantly change the gauze with clean ones.
—A p-pencil sharpener...—Toby reluctantly answered, gaze drifting somewhere else.
—You know you're gonna have to give it to us later, right? —Tim reminded him softly, his hands giving him a gentle massage on his calves.
—Yes s-sir...
—Anything else we should be concerned about? —Tim added.
—I'll give y-you my daggers-s-s...—Toby replied, now looking at his much cleaner skin— I don't trust m-myself.
—Good decision —Brian said, now assessing where to start in order to tackle in what was more concerning first— We'll keep 'em safe, don't worry. And you'll get them back soon.
—Why s-soon?
—Because we know you want to get better —Tim said, his hand now holding Toby's— And we trust that you'll be able to get them back soon, you've got some strong willpower, son.
—And you have a bit of separation anxiety with them...—Brian joked, managing to get a small laugh out of Toby.
He examined his thighs slowly, using his gentle hands to move the skin around to identify the deepest cuts. Thankfully, Brian only found one that would need extra care, the rest would be alright with some frequent cleanings and bandage changes. There was one in his upper thigh was deeper than the rest, and Brian found himself gulping at the sight of a wound done with such hatred. It was deep and uneven, carved into the fold that connected Toby's leg with his hip and, if he were able to feel pain, he'd most definitely be squirming around each time he walked. Brian exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts before examining it further.
—I think this one might need a tiny stitch, sugar —He informed, but Toby groaned as protest— It wasn't a request, Toby.
Even if he couldn't feel pain, the feeling of needles poking through his skin was one of the most uncomfortable things for Toby, it was like having a worm trying to escape from within his skin. He tried to avoid it at all costs, but since he had already been too much trouble he decided to stop fighting against it and just made a face at Brian, who didn't take offense by it and just found it funny. When Brian took out the curved needle and threat he was going to use, Tim's breath hitched.
—Relax bear, I'm not gonna stitch you up...—Brian joked, face concentrated on gripping the needle with some tweezers.
His husband let out an laugh, though it almost sounded like a bark.
—I know, still gives me the heebie-jeebies though...—He mumbled, looking away from the needle and instead focusing on tracing shapes in Toby's hand.
Thankfully only two stitches were needed, so Brian was done even before they could realize it. Toby laughed at how furrowed Tim's brows looked, as if he was the one getting it and feeling the pain it came with. Tim clicked his tongue.
—I don't know why I even bother worrying if you're gonna just laugh at me you lil' raccoon...
—Wh-what do you m-mean racc-raccoon?!— Toby exclaimed, a soft giggle escaping his lips.
—Scruffy and violent like a raccoon, that's what you are.
—Earlier y-you said I w-was your cub thou-though...—He laughed, making Brian's job at cleaning his remaining blood a bit more difficult.
—Raccoons also have cubs, smartass —Tim sticked his tongue out mockingly, managing to also make Brian laugh.
—You two are impossible...—His husband muttered as he stood up momentarily to change his gloves.
When Brian came back, he had a new set of gloves on, with one hand holding clean bandages and another one carrying a needle and a small vial. Tim eyed it curiously, shivering as he saw the thin and long needle still wrapped in its plastic. Toby also had noticed and was about to ask Brian about it, but he was quicker and eager to explain.
—Since I don't know where that pencil sharpener has been and we come in frequent contact with disgusting things anyways...—He started, kneeling again on the floor near Toby— I think it won't hurt giving you a tetanus booster shot.
—Well, it's certified it won't hurt...— Tim joked, only making Toby laugh, as Brian shook his head at his occurrence.
—Keep talking and you'll get a booster too, we're all due for it soon probably anyway —Brian threatened, needle now ready.
Toby made his job easier and lifted his sleeve enough for Brian to clean the area and stick the needle slowly. Even if Toby didn't feel it, he still pushed the liquid in with care, it was best for absortion anyways. Tim closed his eyes and decided not to even look, he didn't fear much things, but all of this medical paraphernalia—especially needles—made him truly uncomfortable. Soon enough though, Brian had taken out the needle and pressed a small piece of cotton to Toby's arm, taking his gloves off as he disposed of the used needle.
Finally, he wrapped Toby's thighs in some clean bandages, making sure they were tight enough to stay in place but not so much as to rub and irritate his skin. Afterwards, he gave Toby a new pair of pajama trousers, which he help them put on when Toby stood up. He looked all better, more relaxed as he had stopped crying and was now just sniffling from time to time. Brian gave him another tight hug, that Tim couldn't help but joining soon.
—Want me to go get Jack? —Brian asked, nuzzling on his son's hair.
To his surprise, Toby shook his head.
—I w-wanna stay with y-you guys tonight-t...—He mumbled, buried in Brian's neck.
—But you will tell him about this, right? —Tim said softly, massaging Toby's shoulders— You know he worries, he loves you so much.
—Maybe he k-knows by now...—Toby reflected— He can sm-smell blood from miles a-away. And if he focuses huh he c-can know who it's f-from.
That answer didn't sound too good in Tim and Brian's ears, though they didn't want to push Toby away when he was asking for their comfort specifically. It was sort of sad imagining Jack smelling Toby's blood from afar, but not telling him why his lover was bleeding.
—If he's not h-here means he's not at th-the cabin, though —Toby talked again— But I'll t-tell him tomorrow, promise.
Toby felt a bit mean to leave his lover out of this for now, but he really was in need of a night at his parent's bed, he knew tomorrow he could tell Jack and he wouldn't mind it. Jack knew how special Toby's relationship with Tim and Brian was and he respected each aspect of it, even if sometimes it meant letting Toby be comforted by them first, he understood it completely. He too was a momma's boy back when he was alive, and would do anything to enjoy the feeling of her hugs once more, so he didn't want Toby to miss it, sadly one day they too would be gone, if the Operator allowed it. It truly never is enough time to enjoy love.
They climbed up the stairs and Toby went into his room to find all the pointy and sharp objects he wanted Tim and Brian to guard for the time being. Tim inspected the pencil sharpener blade before tossing it into the trash bin in their room, buried deep below everything else.
—It wasn't rusty, which is a relief —He reflected, plopping in his side of the bed with a huff.
Toby hummed in agreement, the mattress calling him, the comfy blankets so cozy he could fall asleep just by stroking them. He climbed to his spot, which was right in the middle, with Tim on his right side while Brian was on his left, next to the wall. He decided it was best to lay on his back, in order to not rub his thighs against the mattress and on one side Tim held his hand as Brian pressed against him, hugging him as if he were a pillow. Toby exhaled happily, he was right where he needed to be. Tim placed a quick kiss on the back of his hand.
—Wake us if you need anything, darling —He whispered, almost loosing the battle to sleep— We've got you, right birdie?
Brian's answer was a low hmm mumbled against Toby's hair, his body too tired to react properly, almost falling asleep too. Toby chuckled at it and rubbed his dad's arm softly, thanking him silently for his efforts. Then, he turned at Tim and smiled at him, even if his papa had already closed his eyes.
—T-Thank you..—Toby whispered, not knowing if he had been heard.
Tim's breathing was steady and slow, Brian's head was heavy on the pillow.
Still, he heard how Tim whispered:
—I love you, son.
To which Brian responded with another content hug.
As he had promised, Toby talked to Jack first thing in the morning, when he went and found him on his cabin, back from a last minute mission he had last night. He told Toby that he had smelled blood when he returned, but he was so tired he couldn't manage to identify its owner, so he just fell asleep instead. Knowing it was Toby's made him feel bad, of course, since he could've at least tried and come see how Toby was doing, but Toby didn't blame him for it. They had had a lovely morning occupied by long walks through the misty forest and lunch near the lake, alone and content.
When they came back home from their whereabouts, it was already dark outside, and Tim and Brian had decided to have dinner by themselves, since they knew Jack and Toby wouldn't be hungry when they returned. They tended to overpack for their lunches outside, so most times they also had dinner with their leftovers. Therefore, after wishing Tim and Brian goodnight, they went straight to Toby's room to relax for the rest of the night, though being outside for that much time sure made their bodies tired. Toby's neck twitched and he rolled his shoulders back to try and ease the pressure he was feeling when Jack's nose turned upwards.
—You're bleeding —He muttered calmly, turning to find Toby with his sense of smell.
Toby couldn't help but get tense at his sentence. They had already talked through and through this morning about Toby's feelings, he didn't want to speak about it again, he wasn't the best at expressing himself. Nonetheless, when he saw Jack's relaxed expression, he knew he wasn't going to hear a sermon about his wounds, but something much more tender.
—May I please help?
He rarely ever said no to Jack, not when he was always so polite when asking. "Please" and "thank you" must be his favourite words, since Toby heard him say them over and over again, it was hard denying his requests when he asked them so warmly. Toby shortened their distances and held his lover's hands, giving him a light squeeze that Jack interpreted as a yes. He lead Jack to the bathroom, closing the door behind them softly. The air was colder in there, but Jack's body emanated a comfortable warmth that spread through Toby as he pulled his hoodie upwards. When Jack was there, he liked helping Toby in and out of his clothes, as if he was a prince that needed help dressing, and Toby let himself be pampered. He had asked Jack if this was part of his "conservative" self—as he called it—but it didn't have to do with that, it's just that Jack liked spoiling him.
Once they were both naked, Jack trailed his hands down Toby's body, feeling around until he found where the bandages tied. He gave them a tug and they came undone with ease, some blood coming with them when he pulled. Toby took his hand and lead him to the shower, which he turned on to an almost too hot setting.
—This is a bit much, mouse —Jack muttered when the water reached his skin— Can you please get it colder? You're going to burn yourself.
Toby shrugged, though it didn't make sense to do so.
—I a-always shower like th-this...—He replied, but still lowered the temperature— Isn't hot w-water shit supposed to disinfect b-b-better?
Jack chuckled at his occurrence.
—Yes, darling, but that doesn't apply to skin, it's too sensitive for it —His body adjusted better to the new temperature, shivering as the lukewarm water trailed over his body.
Jack sat on his usual stool, it was way safer for him to sit while showering, the risk of him slipping was high as he was blinded. There, he could smell Toby's blood better, since his thighs were closer to his face. Toby wet his body using the shower head as Jack waited patiently for Toby to do the same for him, for now just tracing his fingers over Toby's wounds. It wasn't the first time he did this, though the previous times the scars he traced were old and closed up, though Jack didn't mind the new ones. He didn't think any less of Toby for them, as he had told him that morning, he just felt sad that his precious partner hadn't found another way to express his sorrow.
—I still think you're beautiful, you know? —Jack whispered against his lover's skin, sending shivers through Toby's body.
He could've faked that he hadn't heard Jack over the sound of flowing water, but he couldn't even talk when he heard the sweet compliment his boyfriend had gifted him. Earlier that morning, when Toby had dressed himself, he paused for a moment and thought about what Jack would say about his new wounds. He was used to touching the old ones, but these were more violent, more abrupt and bumpy, they were not pleasant to the touch. He had feared Jack wouldn't want to caress over his thighs ever again, or at least until they were cured enough to be pleasant once more.
—My beautiful Mausi, I love you just the way you are —He continued rambling, not caring if Toby replied or not— Doesn't matter if you hurt yourself a thousand times, I'll love you a thousand and one times more...
Toby's eyes watered, his lip bit between his teeth to avoid letting out a pathetic whimper in response to his lover's words. Nonetheless, Jack noticed this lack of talking and the scent of salt in the air, so he reached up until he could cradle Toby's chin gently.
—I just want you to understand that it doesn't matter how you look or feel for me, dearest —Jack smiled— You're my lil' mouse, with more or less scars, but still loved the same as always. I think you're beautiful because you feel beautiful, and I don't just mean by touch, your soul is beautiful.
There was no use in holding back his tears anymore, so Toby just decided to let them out with a smile, kissing Jack's hand lovingly. He often found himself wondering how he could he have found someone like Jack, so loving and special, always determined to make him feel better and to make him feel loved. Toby kissed the top of Jack's head as a soft giggle escaped him, which Jack mimicked.
—I love you J-Jackie —He whispered— You're t-too cute...
—Look who's talking.
—I thought you couldn't? —Toby joked.
Jack's laugh was refreshing and comforting. Still, he wanted to help Toby's body, so he reached around the shower trying to find Toby's shower gel. Toby could easily hand it to him, but he let Jack feel around for the tall bottle, which he could identify by the small raised circles around it.
—Your fragance free soap is actually great for this —Jack commented as he put some on his hand— It's gentle enough for the shallower wounds.
—Who kn-knew having ecz-z-zema could c-come in handy? —Toby joked as he felt Jack's hands spreading the foam over his thighs.
He was gentle with it, as soft as a feather as his fingers trailed over Toby's thighs, memorizing his new scars, tracing over them with love. He rubbed the dried blood away as his face rested on Toby's stomach, enjoying how the latter gave him a nice scalp massage. Jack's tail swished calmly from side to side, breath almost purring as he closed his eyelids content.
When he felt he had rubbed them enough, Jack asked Toby to rinse his body off as he kept on tracing over his skin, fingers stopping for a second in the top part of right thigh, were the two stitches were intact and dry. He nodded while humming.
—Those are some beautiful sutures —Jack said— Brian's quite good at this...
Toby rolled his eyes back as he shook his head, a laugh escaping him.
—Okay d-doctor, time to step o-ff before you get h-hard by fuck them...
Jack tried his best to fake that that would never be the case, though Toby could see through his weirdness and, honestly, it probably wasn't even the weirdest thing about them.
When they stepped off the shower after Toby helped Jack clean himself, Jack dried Toby carefully and dressed his wounds in silence before helping him step into his pajamas, placing a nice and warm kiss on top of his head. Then, Toby let himself be cradled in Jack's arms, right there in the middle of the bathroom, not even caring to move to the bed.
His ear pressed against Jack's steady heart, his own soon beating at the same rythym, calm and unworried. How could he had hurt himself if this was what he had? A warm hug, a kind word, fresh bandages on loved skin. Toby reminded himself of everything good he had in his life and how lucky he was to have people who would always support him, no matter what.
He wanted to get better, now more than ever before, now that he had internalized that Jack would always be there to trace over his wounds and Tim and Brian would always be there to let him climb into their bed like a child would.
Toby felt the warmth on his chest spreading all over his soul, comforted by the thought that he was loved and cherished, celebrated no matter what.