Stupid Little Blue Haired Boy (boyxboy)

12

so someone actually made me my first banner and i'm really stoked. it's super amazing too, so i'm going to stick it in the sidebar, and have a link for people who can't see it there. (it came out all funny so maybe you want to use the link) v

http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t638/INNOCENT9146/stupidlittlebluehairedboy_zps8c077ef9.jpg

thank you so much! i love it. everyone go show her some love.

update: actually fuck it. i'm using it as a new cover.

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"Where is he?" I scream, rushing through the automatic doors so fast that I push one off the track. I might care in another universe, one where I wasn't me and society wasn't society. "Where the fuck is he?"

"Room 483; no need for the profanity," the night nurse answers.

I flip her off upon entering the elevator. I can't say I've been happier with another decision in a long time.

Suddenly, the hallways don't seem so painful. I'm not strangled in the smell of the antiseptic and cleaning solution. There isn't a place I'd rather be.

Mr. McKinnon stands. He's tired and the bags under his eyes are almost as prominent as mine. I can picture him sitting here, staring at the wall as he calculates the cost of the visit with each additional minute. He's that kind of a person. Not a family man.

"Damian," he greets me with a nod. "She's in there."

"Why aren't you?" I spit before thinking.

He looks defeated. "She needed some space."

"You fucking coward."

This time, I agree with it. But I bite my tongue. In the face of authority I find myself backing down.

I enter the room with head bowed, eyes on the floor. Intuition tells me there'll be an ugly picture I'm not ready to find the beauty in just yet.

Mrs. McKinnon's hand finds my arm, and she leans to whisper softly into my ear. "It's alright, Damian. You can look."

Shit, she knows just what to say.

Slowly, I look up. When my teal eyes lock onto green ones, tears form. There's no word for the wave of emotion I feel myself being swept up on. His eyes go fuzzy and there's my little blue haired boy again. I don't have it in me to be mad at him for all he's put me through. I just want to hold every inch of his sallow frame.

"Hi," Timmy chokes out. His voice sounds like the croak a body makes after vomiting, the one where there's not enough energy left to function.

And I just stand there. I stand there and watch the single tear make it's way down his face. I watch it weave it's way through the creases and wrinkles of sudden sickness, slipping between his cheek and nose. I watch it until it's hanging from his chin, and he brushes it away with a shaky hand.

You little piece of shit.

When I do find words, they're unimpressive. "Hi."

"I'll give you two some space." Mrs. McKinnon pats my shoulder. "Don't be too long though. I'd like to visit with my son."

"I promise," I promise weakly. My knees suddenly feel weak. Everything inside me wants to run back home and curl up into a little ball under the sheets, refusing everything and everyone. I'm not ready to face this. All those weeks I've had to prepare, and I've got no idea what to say to this boy who turned my entire life around without even trying.

The door clicks shut and I'm aware of how quiet it's become. Without the beeping of the machines, there's nothing left but the sticky residue from each of our breaths and the things caught in our throats. Both of us waits for the other to speak.

And waits.

And waits.

Timmy struggles to sit up in bed, and that's when I break. My fingers feel so strong that I'm afraid I might crush his upper arms if I'm not careful.

"I'm guessing there's a lot you want to say to me," he starts.

I've become bashful. I pull my chin to my chest, shaking my head slowly. Not say. Do.

"Will you sit next to me?" He pats the bed. The plastic hospital sheets crinkle under his hand. "It's cold in here."

My eyes lock on his again. "What the fuck were you thinking?" My voice sounds powerful; strong. It's everything I'm not.

Timmy bites his lip. His once perfect white teeth are stained around the tips. "I wasn't."

"Damn right, you weren't. What happens to change someone's entire outlook on life so suddenly, because if losing the person keeping you alive and then almost losing his equivalent doesn't do the trick, then I'd really like to know what does." Everything I'm saying is making his face twist in upset, but it feels too good to stop. It's like taking a piss and realizing someone's come into the bathroom midway, yet finishing nonetheless. "Go on, tell me."

"I don't know, Damian." He looks so unbelievably tired. I have the urge to reach out and press my fingertips to the bags under his eyes just to confirm they aren't just pained on by some grotesque makeup artist. "I'm sorry."

"Do you know what it feels like?"

Timmy sighs. "I lost Zachary, remember? Can we not fight? Please? I'm so tired."

"Sorry."

Everything about this is like meeting him again for the first time. We're so uncomfortable with each other. On the car ride over, all I could do was think about holding him and forgiving him, but with him here, it's not that easy. I find myself angry. Really angry. Angry enough to punch a hole through the window and just walk out into the pouring rain.

"Anger isn't your emotion, Damian. It doesn't suit you."

"Did I miss anything interesting? Any new gossip?" He grins up at me.

"Like I would know anything about your friends."

"Aren't they your friends too?"

"I don't have friends."

My joke falls flat. Even the voice inside my head isn't laughing.

Timmy's eyes dull. "What am I, then?"

"You're my stupid little blue haired boy."

I seat myself on the edge of his hospital bed, arm draped around his shoulders. When he looks over, I kiss his tiny lips.

They're indescribably soft.

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update: so after reading through, I've decided to make this the end. it's been over a year and I'm ready to finally set these characters free. i'm sorry for all of you who were waiting for an update, but thank you for sticking with me this long. you guys are amazing and so unbelievably dedicated to the point where it makes me tear up. there's nothing better than waking up in the morning to twelve new comments waiting for me in my inbox. so thank you. so much. so so much. i'm glad you all enjoyed this little journey into my head, and please keep Damian and Timmy in your thoughts and prayers, and maybe one day, we'll get to see them come to life.
I love you all.