TOUCH | F. Hargreeves

05

TW!: Self-harm, seizure - mildly explicit

Death was a hard thing to figure for Beau. To think someone could never be heard from again, never to breathe, never to speak, never in the presence of the world of the living. He couldn't quite understand if it was a bad thing, however. For Beau, he had been plagued with the thoughts of death his entire life. He remembered his grandmother, on his father's side, dying in her sleep and their family driving out to her funeral. He never felt a thing but at the same time he didn't know anything about her, apparently, she had met him when he was a baby but that meant nothing to Beau because he didn't remember. Beau was told he should be mourning and yet he wasn't, instead, he had to act like he was for the sake of his parents.

His mother was a sick woman, mentally unwell and not given the right treatment due to parents that believed she was acting out for attention and an uncaring husband who wanted a maid more than he wanted a wife. She told him things, things that were unhealthy and scarily traumatising. Because Beau was her own personal 'therapist' ever since he was born, she would talk about her dreams, her thoughts, her mania induced actions and it only set Beau onto the same track as her - suicidal and mentally ill.

That could definitely be the reason why he acted so cold, so reserved from everyone, he knew what it was like to be so depressed he could just fall asleep and never wake up. Beau was sure the children had never felt anything as gutwrenching as that very feeling. Beau was not emotionless by any means he was just drained of the happiness and of the sadness and always too tired to feel anything really.

Reginald had known of this and prescribed him some type of anti-depressant with one of the many contacts he had on call. Beau didn't know what it was but he knew it made him drowsy and numb, so really he quite liked it.

Everyone had noticed Beau's odd behaviour - which was worse than before -  and they became very curious. One morning, Luther and Allison had come across Beau sitting on the floor of his bedroom, door wide open, as he banged his head against the wall continuously, not too hard but it wasn't soft either. Not sure what to do, especially after he wouldn't respond to their questions, Allison ordered Luther to lay Beau down on his bed where he curled up and stared numbly at the wall. It had frightened both of them immensely.

One weekday, Reginald had told the children training was cancelled which had never happened in all their years before and it made them all wonder what had happened seeing as it must have been so very terrible. Well, Five and Klaus were just too curious to let up so after dragging Ben and Diego along with them, they peered into the crack between their father's office doors. There Beau lay on the floor, convulsing violently and foaming at the mouth, his hooded eyes directed straight at the four boys. Reginald, Pogo and Grace all stood above him with the same concerned and unsure expressions, Grace especially wanting to reach out and grab his hand but was specifically told not to. The children weren't sure what to do after seeing such a terrifying sight.

Now, Beau was always tired, tired of training, tired of human interaction, tired of life. He just wished to be free.

"What's that on your wrist?" Five had asked one day as the two sat silently at the table while Grace flitted around the kitchen nearby. To say Beau was confused about Five's presence was an understatement but to be perfectly honest, Beau hadn't noticed he was sat there until he spoke up.

Beau frowned and followed his eyesight to his wrist, sleeve pulled down ever so slightly, "Nothing." Beau yanked his sleeve up with annoyance taking over his features.

"Are they scratches? Who would scratch you?" Five's frown deepened as his gaze flickered to Beau's dark expression.

Beau chuckled though it lacked any amusement, "You don't even know what they are, do you?" He knew the children were somewhat sheltered from the real world, for now, and wouldn't possibly know what it meant at first glance. Beau still laughed condescendingly, something he would never do in the presence of Vanya, Klaus being a growing possibility on that list. 

"... You did them on yourself." It clicked, "You want to kill yourself?"

"Sometimes." Beau shrugged.

"Why?"

Beau turned to glare, the first time his eyes laid on Five since their conversation first began, and it almost felt like the ground below them shook with his sudden rage, "That is not your concern and you don't care so I would rather keep it to myself." The chair scraped harshly across the ground and toppled backward, causing Five to flinch and watch as he went, his mother giving him a look before following quickly after. 

Why Five tried so hard in breaking him only to act as if he was concerned for his wellbeing a day later was beyond Beau but he didn't care, he wasn't in the right mindset for anything.

"Beau, darling, are you alright?" Grace caught up to Beau easily, finding him standing blankly in the foyer, gazing upon one of the paintings. His mind was fuzzy as he tried to comprehend the brush strokes and splotches on the canvas inside the extravagant picture frame.

Beau's snapped in Grace's direction to see the worrying look she usually had around him, she was a kind... robot that did a lot for him but he just wasn't used to that kind of care directed at him and it showed with the way he shifted his weight. "Uh, yeah, Grace, I'm fine."

She frowned, "Did Five say something to upset you? Because I could go talk to him." She motioned back to the way she came but Beau quickly stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"I'm fine, Grace, really." He smiled a fake smile that twitched with effort.

She matched it sweetly, "Well, would you like to help me bake a cake for dessert. I'll have Five go up to his room." A knowing look washed over her features and it had Beau chuckling slightly.

"Sure. As soon as he's gone I'll help."

Grace grinned and rushed back to the kitchen with Beau in tow, hiding around a corner when he saw Five leave the room, the deep frown he had left him with still present. For some reason, Five looked... sad and it almost made Beau ask him why he would have the right to feel that way with a decent amount of anger but decided not to and instead spent the rest of his afternoon with the Hargreeves robot mother.

Grace didn't tell them about Beau's help but the children and Reginald enjoyed the cake and it was enough to make Beau grin at the woman, Vanya catching this and kicking him softly under the table and giving him a knowing look. Yes, Vanya instantly knew Beau had helped her mother bake that delicious cake and she praised him for almost an hour which he laughed at.

Praise or comfort was difficult for Beau, receiving and giving it, but it was clear by the way Klaus came to him every other night in tears that he had done something right in making the boy feel safe. Now, whenever Beau felt someone climb into his bed late at night he didn't bother questioning who it was as he sobbed into his back or whispered about the contents of his nightmare, it being similar to every other one he had.

"Nightmare?" Beau asked as soon as Klaus cuddled into his back, pulling the blankets tightly over him. Beau didn't bother opening his eyes or rolling over, it was a common occurrence after all.

Klaus sniffed, "Yeah."

"The same one?"

"... Yeah." His head buried into Beau's shirt as if trying to block out the flashes from his dream.

Beau hummed, "Well, there are no ghosts in here, Klaus, go back to sleep." It may seem dismissive but it was the only way Beau knew how to calm him down and Klaus didn't seem to mind anyway. And so the two boys dozed off into the early hours of the morning not aware someone else had woken to the sobbing and the footsteps and the opening of Beau's door, now peering in through the crack in the door. He told himself it wasn't creepy and he was just curious.