Soulmate AU's (Hamilton)

Spoon (jeffmads)

Blood was everywhere, and screaming was coming from all angles. He watched the mess, the small, lifeless blob on the floor, his mother sitting next to it on her knees, sobbing and screaming for his father. He slowly backed out of the room, quickly running to his and throwing himself onto his bed, but nothing he did could take away the memory. Another sister, gone in an instant. 

He tried everything. Vivid flashes of red crossed his mind, slits up and down his arms and the dark blood oozing out. Hiding it from everyone, biting back shrieks of pain when touched. His Mother screaming at him to find his father after another baby was lost.  Blood was everywhere. 

So much blood, and he couldn't help. He was ushered away, he was turned away, they ignored it after they buried it. Several small tomb stones littered his back yard garden. And he couldn't do anything. 

Blood. 

His mother. The knife. So much blood. He called for his father, but he wasn't home. His mother, carefully touched his cheek, smearing blood across it. Then closing her eyes and going cold in his arms. 

James woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily and clutching his chest. Tears streaked down his cheeks, his heart racing. His nightmare and unwanted memories flooded back like a tidal wave, crushing down on him. He let out a quiet sob, putting his head in his hands and crying. Thomas awoke next to him, groggy at first. He jumped wide awake, arms flying around Madison to take him into an embrace. Thomas didn't have to ask, he knew exactly what was wrong. 

He pulled James to him, slowly stroking his hair. "T-Thomas there's s-so-so much blood!" He sobbed into Thomas's chest, clutching his wrist to his chest. Thomas kissed the top of his head, holding James closer to him. "Shh, shhh, it's okay, I'm here, James it's alright, I'm here now." Thomas would mutter. "I-it w-was all my f-fa-fault!" James sobbed, eyes shutting closed and squeezing shut. Thomas leaned his nose down into James hair. "Shhh, James it wasn't your fault honey. You did everything you could." Thomas kissed the side of his cheek. 

James's mother had had three mischariages in his life time, and two more of her children never lived to see past 10. James, however, had. And while he was sick all the time, and his mother praised him like an angle on earth, it still couldn't take away the pain of loosing so many children. James's father hated seeing his wife in so much pain, and cut himself off from her as a result, which only drove the sadness to continue threw his mother. The deaths, along with his parents splitting up and being unhappy, drove James to think of himself as not good enough, as the problem with it all.  He started acting out, stealing razors from the kitchen, slicing his wrists when no one was home, or when everyone was asleep. Slicing his thighs, his stomach, anything. James just wanted to be perfect for his mother. 

At first, he thought she was so upset because he was always so sick, she would cry at just looking at him, never being able to take care of him and having to leave the room. So every time James got sick, he would get himself medicine, and sneak a razor into his room. He would carve into his skin, careful not to cut into an artery, loving the burn that came across his stomach. He would clean himself up,  make sure the blood clotted, and then put a loose sweater over it. That's why he owned so many, to cover up years and years of scars tissue. 

The next, he thought it was because he wasn't a little girl, like his mother had wanted. So he cut his thighs. Cuts littered up and down his legs, and from that day on he refused to go swimming, he became an indoor cat. He would sit in his room, reading or doodling, all the while his legs burning at the rub of jeans on cuts. His mother would sob in the middle of the night, her crying echoing threw the walls, about how all of her little girls were gone. James hated to hear that, but he could never block it out. So he'd sneak to his closet, strip down to his boxers, and carefully drag a razor down his thighs. One right after another until he needed to crawl out of his closet to retrieve bandages and anti bacterial acid.