BROKEN THINGS

50

It felt like someone had cut his strings as soon as he closed the room to the bathroom after setting up the couch as comfortably as he could for Sachin. He had been having the same day he was used to always having. Waking up, having nothing to do, wanting to do nothing. He had never been made to be a person who could sit idle but as days had rolled into one another, he found himself just lying on his bed or the couch if he really got tired of the bedroom; and just staring blankly into the space for hours on an end. And then he had left for Brianna's place, the one thing he looked forward to every day. The small homely cafe was a reprieve for him, a temporary fix but a fix nonetheless for his erstwhile meaningless life.

And then he had heard it, Sachin's voice. Strangled, disbelieving, yearning, he had heard his name being uttered.

He had at first thought that the messed up routine of eating just the one meal at Brianna's was causing a hallucination. But then he had looked around and caught sight of him, his love standing not two meters away from him. Sachin's hair was mussed like he had been tugging at it as he often did when he would be deep in thought. His shirt was crumpled, an old tshirt so unlike the pressed polos Sachin liked wearing. There were circles beneath his eyes like he had not been getting good sleep for a while now. Rahul had never seen a sight more beautiful in the dragging life he was leading.

So ofcourse he had turned on his heel and dashed. It had been unsuccessful. So pathetically unsuccessful that he was here now, having divulged secrets he had wanted to take to his grave to the last person he wanted to get to know of it.

Ok maybe not last.

There was his mother who would be heartbroken that Rahul had not chosen the people who had chosen him, fallen into the trap of a random man. He did not want to know what she felt about him after he had stabbed her son in the back because of that man.

Then there was his father who would probably be disappointed and let down. It was bad enough that he had broken his family's trust. But if his strong strong father ever got to know how weak the boy he had given his own name to was, he would never even want to look back at him again.

And then.

And then there was Sourav.

There was Sourav.

His hands shook as he leaned against the counter staring at the alien figure in the mirror. Gaunt cheeks, unruly hair, uneven stubble because he had not had the motivation to shave properly. Really, if not for the beard irritating his face, he would have let it grow out. He had lost weight. He had known he was losing weight. He didn't even know if he would ever be able to swing a bat again. Definitely not on the field but the way he was going, he would soon be unable to pick that piece of wood anymore. He hated it. He hated the alien staring back at him instead of his own face. His face. Rahul. Who was Rahul Ganguly anymore? There was nothing that remained of the man who had been proud of himself, his four parents, his career, his thoughts, his interests. The man Sachin had fallen in love with. Sourav's brother. Nothing remained of his identity.

He hated it. He hated the man that he had become. It wasn't the man Sachin had fallen in love with. This was just a pathetic interloper. Someone who had with his own hands snatched from his loved ones a man they could have been proud of. Snatched himself from him. A wave of fury rose in him unbidden and he nearly broke the mirror before managing to reign himself in.

His blade. He needed his blade.

He stumbled to the cupboard, trying his best to not knock things over though the rage spinning his head in circles made it hard to. He wanted this to end. Everything to fucking end for once. Why did he have to relive everything he had done, all the pain... caused to him, that he only had caused...the pain he had given others... Sachin... Sourav.

He gripped the blade hard trying to stop himself from fucking stabbing himself then and there and ridding the earth of a great burden in that instant.

He had fallen. He had fallen very deep. But even he could not fall that deep. He couldn't be that selfish. He can't put Sachin through that. He can't put Sourav and Anil if they were really in the city, through that. Poor innocent Sachin, sleeping outside, he can't do that to him. Or to Sourav, the complete bullhead who had traveled all the way to West Indies to search for him despite everything Rahul had done to break his heart.

He couldn't be that selfish.

But his lips wobbled with the pain not just ending everything was causing, hot tears cascading down his tears in a pathetic outpour. The blade was hovering right over his wrist, clenched in a death grip, shaking with the force it was taking to stop himself.

With a strangled yelp he managed to toss the blade away to the far corner of the bathroom, clattering loudly as it hit the wall then dropped into the bathtub. The noise seemed so loud to his over sensitive ears that he actually stifled his breathing for a minute to make sure that Sachin hadn't heard that and was not coming to check on him.

It took long moments of forcefully controlled breathing trying to maintain silence incase Sachin had stirred that really brought his senses back to him.

God what had he almost done? He had come so so close to ending his own life nevermind what that would do to the people he claimed to care about. The very people he had been seeking to protect from himself. And he had nearly destroyed these two months of absolute suffering he had forced himself to endure just to keep them safe from the hurt he ended up causing them each time. 

Stupid. Selfish. Careless. Greg had been right after all.

He gritted his teeth, furiously wiping away the evidence of his pathetic meltdown. He couldn't afford to be an idiot with their lives in danger from him. He had absolutely no delusion that Sachin was just going to leave him alone quietly having gotten his answers. No. Sachin would do everything, everything he could without breaking their deal to make Rahul break and give in. Sachin would play all his cards and play them smartly. Rahul couldn't afford to be selfish right now and have such episodes.

He pushed himself off the floor he had not realized when he had sunk to. On trembling legs he reached the bathtub and picked up his blade and looked at the wickedly gleaming blade. Determined he brought it to his favorite spot, his shoulder which was a crosswork of scars now but it wouldn't harm anything to add one more in the lot.

Earlier when he had resorted to this measure, it had often been a source of relief, an opening to drain the poison in his wounds from. But now. Now he raised the blade with determination. This wasn't relief. This was a punishment for nearly causing irreparable harm to his family. This was punishment for wanting to be selfish. This was punishment for letting them find him. For failing to keep them safe. Punishment for losing control.

This was punishment. Punishment for being himself.

The cut hurt more than any of them had ever.

He deserved it.