Truce

|-/

Trigger Warnings: Self-Harm, Depersonalization

--

Tyler didn't feel exactly real sometimes. He knew outwardly of his existence - he was painfully aware of it. But sometimes the question of "what if?" dug a little too deep. Sometimes the fleshy mess that covered tendon and nerve and bone seemed all too artificial. Sometimes he had to look inside of it to make sure it was there. That he was there.

This gave him scars. Ugly, protruding, pinkish-white lines of raised flesh. But he wasn't hurting himself. He was just checking. He had to check. He had to see with his own eyes, just to make sure. But he wasn't hurting himself.

Josh noticed his checks a month ago. They were sitting together on Tyler's couch when Josh pointed down at his arm and asked "What's that?"

Tyler thought Josh already knew what they were, he was just asking to give him a chance to explain himself. To come up with an excuse that'd be waved off anyways. And still, Tyler had no answer. All he could do was shrug and turn back to the television, hoping Josh would let it go. Because he couldn't explain his checks. That made them artificial - because on the off chance nothing was truly real, if he explained what he was doing and why, it took away the satisfaction of knowing he's there. It could be taken from him. But he wouldn't let it. So Tyler wore sweaters now.

|-/

Tyler could tell Josh was tip-toeing around him now. He didn't want that - it made him feel less there. Less whole. Less human. Wait. Was he human? He had to check.

Grab the blade. One line. Too thin, can't see. Another line, more of a gash this time. He wipes the blood away and pulls apart the skin, peering inside. It splits further at the tug. Real.

Wipe it off, stick on a bandaid. Put your sweater on. It's 80 degrees outside. Wear it anyways. Okay.

He finished his check, and he felt more solid. He felt here, because he was. For now anyways. Tyler unlocked the door to the bathroom and opened it, startling slightly at Josh standing on the other side. He tended to do that - lurk, sneak up on people, smile his quiet smiles and speak his soft words into Tylers ear at night. Tyler felt real then.

"What were you doing?" Josh asks.

"Nothing. Bathroom things, you know." Tyler answers.

"And bathroom things require bandaid wrappers on the floor?" Shit. careless. He'd been careless. Wait. The real Tyler wouldn't have been so careless. Was he real? He should check.

"Oh. Well, I scraped my arm. I'll clean them up." Tyler smiles his maybe-hopefully-real smile and backs into the bathroom again, closing the door.

Careless. Stupid. Fake. Check! You should check. Grab the blade. One line, more like a gash this time. Tug and pull the skin. Wipe away the blood. Real. Clean it, throw on a bandaid. Put the wrappers in the trash. Put your sweater on. Okay.

And he was solid again, real. Tyler re-opens the door to find Josh still standing there, more expected this time. He was leaning against the doorframe. Josh leaned on doorframes a lot. It was a very Josh thing to do. Very real. Tyler smiles his newly real-solid smile and retreats back to his living room where he and Josh had been watching community.

Tyler hated TV sometimes because he knew it wasn't real. But then, he could control what was real and what wasn't. Until he couldn't, and until he was fake. But for now he was real, so for now he sat with Josh and watched community.

|-/

Something is wrong. Something is so, so wrong. Tyler is laying down with Josh who is speaking his soft words into Tylers ear, sending shivers down his spine. But he didn't feel real. When Josh was speaking, Tyler always felt real. Solid. But not now. This wasn't Real Josh. and if this wasn't Real Josh, then Tyler wasn't Real Tyler. But maybe...

"Hey Josh, I gotta pee."

"Hrmph..." Josh groans but lessens his hold on Tyler to allow him to slip out of the bed and make his way to the bathroom. Maybe Josh was just falling asleep. He should check anyway.

Grab the blade. One line. Too thin, can't see. Another line, more of a gash this time. He wipes the blood away and pulls apart the skin, peering inside. It splits further at the tug. Real.

Wipe it off, stick on a bandaid. Roll your sleeves down. This is real. Okay.

Tyler slid back into Real Josh's arms, listening to his evened-out breaths and feeling his warm skin through the fabric of his sweater. Sleep came soon. Tyler didn't really like sleep, because dreams weren't real. But it's okay, because Josh is a solid form next to him. And that made him feel real.

|-/

"Tyler, what's that?" Josh's tone is thick with sleep and worry, and Tyler notices the red seeping through his sweatshirt. Oh. That's not supposed to happen.

"I just- scraped my arm is all."

"Well it looks bad then. Let me see it."

"Oh. Um, no. That's okay."

"Tyler. Let me see." And Tyler could only nod and roll up his sleeve and listen to Josh gasp, feel the dip in the mattress as Josh sat next to him and feel the tender brush of fingertips over his arm as Josh assessed the damage. Real. Very real.

"Tyler, I- Why?"

Tyler had never been asked that question before. Of course, no-one knew, but he's never been asked just why. It was always 'why did you do that?' or 'why aren't you going?' or 'why?' followed by the rest of the question because the three-letter word never seemed to explain itself enough. But now it did. Not it felt real. Because Tyler knew exactly what Josh meant, and he knew there was no way around it. Deep breath in. Out. Why?

"I was just... checking."

"Checking what?" Josh probably knew Tyler was going to continue explaining, but needed to let the inquiry out anyways. Real. That felt real.

"Checking that I'm real. Solid. Sometimes it doesn't seem like it."

"Oh. Tyler you're real. I'm real. You don't have to do... this," Josh's voice broke at that, "you don't have to hurt yourself to prove that."

Tyler only nodded. He knew Josh was right logically speaking. But it didn't feel right. So he kept on.

"But how do I know? How do I know it's real? If I can't feel it then it isn't really real. I have to feel it and see it to know."

"But do you have to feel pain?"

"I don't know. I suppose not. But what else am I supposed to feel?" And then Josh kissed him, slow and soft like his words, and Tyler kissed him right back. Josh pulls away and Tyler furrows his brow in confusion before the boy spoke again.

"There. Did you feel that?"

"Oh. I guess I did." He did. And it felt real.

"Then there's no more need to hurt yourself." Josh had a point there. Kissing him felt far more real than anything else, he felt more solid than any peek through his flesh could make him. Josh was right.

"I guess there's not. Can you kiss me again? It's real when you do."

And Josh just smiles his quiet smile and does exactly that.