'You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye
And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
You got that long hair, slicked bac...
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Damon believed he was brought on this planet for a reason. The very reason he exists was to protect his siblings. In his mind, they were the very reason for his existence. Because that's who he was, the big brother, by his birth right it was his job to protect them.
For the last seventeen years of his life he had, he had put them first at any chance and turn and moment. He always made sure they were safe before he was.
So, being told to put himself first? That was a new one.
His mother would lose her mind if she heard someone tell him that. Especially when she found out it was Charlie.
Charlie tapped the wheel awkwardly. "You need me to come in with you?" He glanced at his eldest son, the boy who reminded him so much of him.
Damon looked over at him before looking at the large one story building in front of them. "No thanks."
His brown eyes went back to buildings that would most likely resemble his very own hell. Inside those doors somewhere deep inside was a therapist sitting waiting for him to show up.
"Okay." Charlie kept his eyes on his son. "Look. If you don't want to go, you don't have to go." Charlie wanted him to go.
He didn't understand the issues Damon had, but he wanted to. He wanted to take that pressure of his sons shoulders and put it on his own.
Charlie would rather fall through the earth and reach the bottom of hell himself than allow his son to walk around in pain every day.
Damon turned around to his dad, confusion shone in his eyes bright. "Weren't you and Hardin just arguing over who was going to take me here?"
"Yes. Because I know if Hardin came, you would have walked in that door and hated every second of it."
"Hardin's not here." Damon told him. "You're here, so what would you tell me to do?"
The way Damon looked at him in this moment made his heart break. He remembered when Damon was five and they were spending the summer in forks, the young dark-haired boy had lost his favourite teddy bear.
Charlie always remembered that look because it broke his heart to see his son look so broken.
He reached out hesitantly, tucking a piece of curled hair behind Damon's ear, smiling softly. "When you were four, Bella fell down the stairs, and you sat there all day, all night staring at the TV." Damon furrowed his eyebrows, wondering where his father was going with this. "You blamed yourself, but after that, you never left her side. I had to drag you away, kicking and screaming." Chalrie chuckled.
Damon stared at him, not like he would normally look at someone. Because there was a certain way that Damon looked at his father, and it always held love, admiring and respect.
"You, my sweet boy. Have always put yourself last, so all I'm asking you all I'm begging you to do is put yourself first." Charlie whispered to him, his voice carrying in the silent car.
