Arny and Danny Imagines

Fading

TW: Suicide, mentions of cutting, blood, abuse, death

~~

He looked at the shattered pieces of the glass bottle that surrounded him and wondered...would it really be so bad?

Danny closed the door behind him as quietly as he could but it was no use, his father was waiting for him. Before he could fully turn, he felt a fist connect with his jaw, knocking him to the ground.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" His father bellowed, his voice echoing through the house. Danny stayed down, simply answering his father from the familiarity of the hardwood floor.

"De...detention." He lied, his jaw screaming in pain as he tried to respond. If his father actually knew where he was, he'd be dead by now. Wasting time with friends was not allowed under any circumstances. At least in 'detention' he could study.

He closed his eyes as he prepared himself.

--

His friends laughed as they began throwing their empty bottles at the side of the building, watching as they exploded into a million shards. Danny smiled, taking one final drink from his own before whipping it at the wall, picturing his father against it as the bottle exploded.

"Shit!" Danny cried out, clutching his arm to his chest as he felt a piece of glass pierce his arm. Realization slowly dawned on him as the laughter and voices of his friends faded out. Pain...he actually felt pain...

He looked at the shattered pieces of the glass bottle that surrounded him and wondered....would it really be so bad...? He pulled the glass out of his arm and stared at the blood dripping down his arm for a long moment.

He turned to see his friends blissfully unaware as they continued to smoke and drink their cares away. He gripped the glass a bit tighter as he snuck away, finding an empty hand built shack out of metal sheets.

He sat down on the ground, spinning the glass around in his fingertips as he contemplated what exactly he planned to do. A few simple...maybe deep enough to...life couldn't get any better with the way it was going now, right?

His 'friends' were just a means to an end. People he just bonded with because they were dealing with bullshit just like he was. He didn't see these friendships lasting. Everyone was going to leave and he'd be alone again...

His 'parents'...he felt so angry and sad when he thought about everything they'd done to him. He'd heard how other parents loved their kids growing up, taking them on trips, tucking them in, giving them hugs and kisses, taking care of them when they were sick...why couldn't his parents love him...? What did he do so wrong..?

Dannys chest ached as the feelings he'd left behind as a child came rushing to the surface. He felt a single tear escape his eye as several memories came flooding to the front of his mind.

"Dad! Happy Father's Day! I made you this in school." 8 year old Danny said with a hopeful smile. He handed his father the card and a homemade pottery container. His father snatched the objects from Danny's hand and looked at them for a moment before scoffing and tossing them on the table.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this shit?" Danny's face fell and he tried to hide the tears that began to well up in his eyes. He didn't want to hurt again tonight. It was getting harder to hide the bruises.

"I...uh...I'm gonna go do my homework." He mumbled as he ran off to his room. He flinched as he heard the unmistakable sound of paper being ripped and the container being smashed on the ground before he could close his door.

Danny had made the excuse that they weren't enough. Danny should have gotten him more. But he was only 8...how was he supposed to do that?

'Disappointment' 'Worthless' 'Mistake' 'Hopeless'

He grabbed his chest as he began to sob, the pain and heartbreak beginning to suffocate him. He couldn't breathe, his vision began to blur and his chest burned. Suddenly there was a searing fire in his hand and he looked down, seeing blood flowing from his palm.

Escape...

With shaky hands, he slowly pulled up the sleeve of his sweater, staring at the purplish blue veins that branched along the empty canvas of his pale forearm.

He drew in a long, slow breath as he started at his wrist, pressing hard against his vein and dragging vertically along his arm, all the way to his elbow. He smiled as the river of red began to run.

He quickly repeated the ritual on his other arm and lay back against the gravel. He smiled for the first time in what had felt like forever. He said his silent, emotionless goodbyes to everyone as he felt his breaths begin to lighten and his head become fuzzy.

Arny.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He tried to move. He tried to scream. He tried to at least groan loud enough for someone, anyone to hear him. He couldn't leave him!

"Danny!" Was the final voice he heard before he felt his heart beat one final time.

And then he was gone.