Flatmates - Solangelo AU

TWENTY

IMPORTANT: This chapter deals with some darker themes such as suicide, and mentions of past self harm. Other than the first paragraph or two, nothing is described in great detail, but if any of you are uncomfortable with this, please skip it.

TWENTY

Nico opened the door and saw his sister. Bianca was standing in the center of the room with a pistol to her skull. She saw him and gave a cold smile, pulling the trigger. Her body didn't fall, but blood splattered the floor, the walls, him. Her eyes rolled back into her head for a moment, before rolling back, darker than usual. She was humming an Italian lullaby quietly, walking closer towards Nico. "This is all your fault." Rang through his ears, on a constant loop. "This is all your fault. This is all your fault." Nico tried to leave, but the door was locked behind him. He banged on the door, desperate to escape.

He could feel Bianca's breath as she whispered, "This is all your fault." In his ears, and he slid to the floor, trying to cover his ears, shutting his eyes tight so he no longer had to look at his sister's distorted face, telling him the words he knew were true. "This is all your fault. This is all your fault."

Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was screaming at her to stop, screaming that he was sorry. He tried to move to the other side of the room, but she held the gun to his skull instead. "This is all your fault. It should have been you. This is all your fault."

Nico woke up, tears streaming down his face, heart racing. The clock beside him indicated that it hadn't even been an hour since he went to bed. He shot out of bed and grabbed his towel. He could still feel the blood covering him, it had all felt so real. He scrubbed the feeling off under the stream of water, letting the hot water burn his skin so he could feel something.

It was always the same nightmare, and Nico was sick of it. Sick of the way it made him feel. But no matter how many times he reassured himself that it wasn't real, that it wasn't his fault, whenever he was in the dream, those thoughts were nowhere in his brain.

He went back to his room and turned on the light, grabbing his sketchbook, drawing his feelings out until the sun was rising, his hand ached, and he felt like he was empty. He grabbed the closest hoodie he could find and headed into the kitchen, feeling like he had weights tied to his feet.

Will had poured himself a bowl of cereal, and there was a mug of coffee already waiting for Nico. Will looked up when he heard Nico, and something flashed in his eyes, but Nico was too tired to tell what. "I'm going to need my hoodie back soon." Was all Will said before getting up to fill the cat food bowl. Nico nodded and went and poured his own bowl of cereal.

Right before Will left for class, he turned and paused in front of Nico. "Go back to bed. You need to take care of yourself."

Nico wanted to take his advice. He didn't like feeling like a zombie all the time, but the nightmares had been getting more and more intense, and no matter how tired he was, all he saw when he closed his eyes was the bullet going through her head.

Didn't help that his birthday was that week. Everything was always worse around it, around the death anniversary. Hazel had been asking him what he wanted for his birthday, and he was getting sick and tired of her not taking 'nothing' as an answer. As much as she tried, she just didn't understand. All he wanted for his birthday was to get his sister back, but that was never happening.

He didn't go to classes at all that week. Called in sick to work. He spent the mornings in the living room with his paints, and retreated back into his bedroom before Will got back and used his sketchbook. He knew he would pay for it, especially this close to exams. He wasn't even sure if he could cover his half of the rent with the time he took off work.