dichotomy ; gawsten

three

this chapter's kinda triggering - if you're triggered by suicide, panic attacks, depression, or self-harm, be careful.

"You told me it was getting better..."

He stops. The blade is still digging into his skin. He keeps his gaze focused on his arm and the beads of crimson that are starting to pool together into a stream. "Jawn, I-"

"No, Geoff." Jawn drops to his knees in front of him and presses a wad of toilet paper to his skin. He pulls the blade out of his hand and begins putting pressure on the wound. It stings. Geoff inhales deeply and looks away. "You can't keep doin' this, dude. What if you go too deep one day?"

"I won't," Geoff mutters. "I'm not stupid. I know when ta stop."

"Do you? Do you really?" Jawn cocks his head and lifts the tissue slightly. "Lotta fuckin' blood for someone who 'knows what they're doing'."

"Don't fuckin' mock me."

"I don't get it," Jawn sighs. "What's bothering you? What's makin' you so sad? You've got the money and the fame and the fans and the girl...what else do you want, man? I don't get why you're doing this."

"Because it's not that simple?" Geoff shoots back. Everyone says it. He has everything he could ever ask for but he's still not happy and no one understands it. People think he's faking and seeking attention and trying to get pity because who the fuck is sad when they have the dream life with the dream career and the dream girl he's living the dream he shouldn't be sad people shouldn't have to coddle him while he sits amongst his piles of money and sold out stadiums like a fucking attention whore. "It's not that fucking simple, Jawn. I didn't ask for this. Any of this."

"Don't do that," Jawn snaps. "Don't be that asshole. Do you know how many people we've saved? How many lives we've changed? Don't act like someone's holdin' a gun to your head. If you could leave right now, would you?"

"I wish someone was holding a gun to my fucking head," Geoff mutters. "And I wish they'd shoot already and get it the fuck over with. I know that's not what you wanna hear but that's the truth. And no money or fame or fans or girlfriends will change it."

His chest feels tight. His heart is racing. It's not new and he's not a stranger to the realization, but Jawn is. He feels like he's naked in the cafeteria, like he just ripped off all his skin and he's laying there. Open. Exposed. Vulnerable. Jawn isn't saying anything. His heart is beating faster. The room is starting to spin. Everything is getting blurry. He's dizzy and he can't see straight and a wave of cold is washing down his back, like someone dunked him in a vat of ice water.

"Geoff? Dammit. Dude, stay with me. C'mon, breathe. Watch me. Copy me, okay?" Jawn grabs his shoulders and begins to exaggerate the up-and-down movement of his chest. Geoff blinks back tears and stares faintly at him. He inhales but sucks in air too quickly and begins coughing. The action puts more pressure on his chest. He closes his eyes. "It's okay. Try again. Just focus on your breathing. In, and out. In, and out. Nothing else. Everything's okay, I promise."

Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his head is spinning by the time he gets his breathing back to a normal rhythm. Everything feels heavy. He wants to sleep.

"There you go," Jawn says. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Geoff mumbles. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Jawn replies. "I'm sorry I caused it. You haven't had one that bad in a really long time."

"Yeah I have." His arm's finally stopped bleeding. He pulls it away from Jawn and back into his chest. He encircles his wrist with his other hand and uses his fingers to press on the cuts. He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. "You just weren't there."