Painful Love

Snow On The Beach

"How do you feel about yourself, Alec?"

How do I feel about myself?

How did he feel about himself?

How did he feel?

How...?

Myself...?

His body. His mental health. His... everything.

Nothing was right. There was nothing good about him. He wasn't right. He wasn't.

Alec was scarred in many senses. He was mentally and physically permanently hurt. He would never be normal. He would never live a normal life. He was always going to be like this.

His skin was too pale. His eyes were always darkened. He was thin, unhealthily, almost bordering on the dangerous edge of being hospitalized. He had just been diagnosed with an eating disorder, generalized anxiety disorder and depression. They were testing him for more disorders. They had said the likelihood of Alec having PTSD was very high, by just watching his behavior at the hospital.

He would never be normal.

His body was already past the point of saving. His scars, his looks, his figure, nothing was right. He couldn't feel loved. He never had. He was uncapable of believing he would ever be loved. It all felt like a joke to him.

He was not able to love himself, so why would anyone love him?

Alec didn't deserve anything. He didn't deserve what he had. He didn't deserve anything good. He had, however, deserved all that had happened to him.

All but Magnus.

He didn't deserve Magnus. He didn't deserve his appreciation. He didn't deserve him. He shouldn't have kissed him. Never, ever should he have even tried to consider being more than friends with Magnus. He didn't even deserve friends. He didn't deserve goodness.

He had deserved his father and his ex-boyfriend's abuse. He had been born to be hurt. He had been born to be used by someone else, he was only useful when it came to fulfilling another person's needs.

He wasn't a person. He was just a toy. A thing.

He had always known that. He had accepted it. He had come to terms with that and Alec would never waste any more time trying to figure out what else he was in the world for.

"Alec, did you hear what I just asked you?"

Alec blinked a couple of times. His breath was shortened. He was paler, trembling and staring down at his feet. He pulled at his shirt, his bandaged arms itching. He was uncomfortable wearing the hospital gown. He felt naked. He was naked underneath.

He was rocking himself on the chair. The room was freezing. He hated it. He was always so goddamn cold. Alec was breathing through his mouth, his gaze lost. He wanted to pull his legs up to his chest in order to make himself appear smaller, but if he did that his hospital gown would move up and leave his lower body uncovered.

Alec was pulling on the bandages with a hand. He was scratching his leg as well, feeling the soft bandage under his hand. He wanted to tear it off and scratch his wounds open. At the same time, however, the bandages came with a feeling of having his pain be acknowledged that made him want to keep his arms and legs bandaged forever.

"Alec?"

He shook his head. He didn't want to talk to the doctor. He was someone Alec didn't know. Alec didn't want to talk to him. He could literally feel his insides churn, he wanted to get out of there. Why couldn't he do this with Catarina? She had been assigned as his doctor, hadn't she?