We Can Help

Chapter Seven

Btw this story is in Bucks POV so whenever it says something like " Buck must have asked for it, right?" That's not my opinion it's his! This story is based off the information in his mind! That's why there's only a glimpse of other people's thoughts and words!

Even though he had only been running for a few hours in total, Buck could already tell he would be using this running trick to get his mind off of Selfharm.

—

The first time Buck gave into his urges and asked Bobby for a blade was two days later. He had lasted so long but in the end he needed it.
He brought the blade down against his thigh, his right one this time, and decided to keep them as shallow as he could so Bobby wouldn't restrict his blade usage even more.
Buck, being the Buck that he is, decided to make the cuts on his thighs shallow but that he would cut on his hips and make those deeper, and he would just not show those to Bobby.
He felt guilty lying, he felt guilty even needing to use the blade in the first place, Buck sat in the bathroom on the closed toilet lid, his underwear pushed up and pants pulled down to give him access, he had the blade in his hand, yet he didn't make a move. Bobby was waiting right outside the door.

"Buck are you okay in there?" Bobby said knocking on the door.
"Yeah fine!" Buck responded knowing he wasn't.
By now his eyes were watering and he wanted so badly to cut but he couldn't do it knowing Bobby would look at it. Knowing Bobby was right outside the door to make sure he didn't do anything crazy.

After several more minutes Bobby invited himself in. He opened the door and peaked in, buck was lost in thought, his thigh still untouched.

"What going on Buck?" Bobby said worriedly.
Buck just kind of stared ".... I can't....... I can't do it knowing your right outside....." tears were still welling up in his eyes.
"Oh.......... I'm sorry Buck I just want to make sure you don't hurt yourself too bad like last time, it was only a few days ago and you could have died........."
"I know........ I didn't mean for that to happen............ but I can't do it when your right outside- it makes me feel all twisty and turny inside."
"I'm sorry Buck but I don't want you to get hurt, you have to understand I'm doing this to protect you........... I had to beg the nurses not to put you on a psych hold the last time you selfharmed."

Buck wordlessly handed the blade back over to Bobby and pulled his pants back up, he then left looking defeated.
Bobby grabbed the blade and put it up and then walked into his room where Athena was sitting there reading a book.
"I don't know what to do 'thena....... I just want to lock him away so he can't get hurt......." Bobby said to his wife.
"I know, I know, I want to put him in a bubble, but you know as well as I do that Buck would never allow that." She said looking up from her book and putting it away.
"Not like I'd give him a choice..." Bobby mumbled kissing his wife and sitting down next to her.
She gave a light chuckle.
"So did he use the razor?" She asked curious.
"No......... that's what scares me.............. if he doesn't use it I'm worried that one day he will lash out in himself and have to go to the hospital again...."
"What can we do? I mean- I don't want him to have access easily, that will make him use it too much.......... Maybe................. I hate to say it but maybe he needs professional help.........?"
"..... maybe........ I mean- he went to a therapist before..... maybe he'll be willing to try to go again?"

When Bobby brought up the idea Buck, was not in fact, okay with it. He said absolutely not. Not that he told anyone that he didn't technically consent to the things his therapist did, but that trauma was enough for him to not want to go. Women would sleep with him, and men.....? Well he didn't even want to think about it.
Sometimes when he's asleep he has dreams about that day, not often, but everytime it does happen, when he wakes up he can feel her skin on his, the dream has caused him to throw up several times, which is odd because during the actual occurrence he was kinda numb, he just sat and let her do as she pleased.
I mean- did it even really count as assault—? He liked it. I mean- sometimes he wanted to stop but he still 'finished' in the end, so it didn't count? Right? I mean he was just being a baby about the whole thing.
'I didn't say yes...... but I didn't stop her- I mean- I didn't want to hurt her but- it's my fault anyways.' Buck thought to himself.
If he didn't put out some kind of vibe it wouldn't have happened.

"Why not Buck! It would really benefit you!" Bobby was upset that buck hadn't even given it a shot.
"Because it doesn't help it just makes it worse Bobby! I'll be fine, just let me go back to work already! I feel good, my leg is stable!"
"No. I'm not letting you come back until you get a therapist." Bobby was firm.

Buck took a deep breath "........ I'll go once......"

"Three sessions."
"............ fine........ but after that I don't have too."
"Deal." Bobby said

Buck scheduled his first appointment and in the time between he ran, he ran at least a mile everyday and didn't stop until his lungs were delightfully on fire and his legs felt like jello.
When the day for his first appointment came around he went to the office and signed in. He sat in the chair, bouncing his knee repeatedly from anxiety until his name was called.
"Evan Buckley?" A woman asked.
Buck walked up to her awkwardly.
"Yeah.... It's- uh, it's Buck." He said nervously looking down. He was scared she was going to assault him like the last therapist had.
"I see, I'm Heidi Stone, you can call my Heidi." She said walking away "follow me."
Buck followed her to her office, it was small and full of things, including a brown shelf with picture frames of certificates and degrees, a box of puzzles and kids toys- for the children she saw, and the last shelf had a box of fidget toys, that shelf immediately caught bucks eyes. He always loved fidgeting with things, especially when he's nervous.
Buck sat on the couch across from her desk and stared at the wall. Everytime he was in a new place with a new person his brain told him to count the items on the walls- then the items touching the walls, then the things touching the ceiling, then the amount of furniture- you get the idea.
The therapist sat down and started watching him turn his head and count away.
"What are you thinking about Buck?" She said folding her hands.
".... There's 23 things touching the walls."
"Mhm.... Do you do that often in new places?" She asked.
".... When I'm nervous......" buck replied feeling embarrassed.
"Well there's no need to be nervous here, why do you feel nervous?"
"I don't like being alone with a stranger." He said bluntly.
"Do I look threatening?"
"... no...?"
"They why are you afraid of me?"
"I'm not." Buck was adamant.
"Your body language says otherwise. Your faced away from me, your legs are bouncing and your body is scrunched up as if you don't want me to look at you. Even just in the lobby you weren't like this, so, who hurt you?" She said looking Buck in the eyes.