Fix You ~Completed~

Act Eighty

What followed was the worst week of my life.

Honestly, it should have been too extreme to put that label on those several days considering how many shitty weeks I spent with Kyla, but somehow that week surpassed anything I'd ever ached through before.

Day one, Gale came home at around nine in the morning and Eddie sent him in to check up on me. Ed himself had poked his head into my room periodically throughout the night to make sure I didn't hang myself with the drapes or something. (Kyla always said he was sure that was what he'd come home to find one day; me, dangling from the ceiling with the drapes wrapped around my neck. I didn't understand his sense of humor. I really didn't.) Eventually, he got the hint and stopped, but Ale said that when he'd walked in the front door, he found Eddie waiting along the wall outside my bedroom door.

"I take it you guys are in a bad spot?" Gale had murmured, sliding down beside me on my bed. I'd built up a giant blanket fort to hide me so he wouldn't see how wrecked I honestly was. "Lem?"

"Why d-did you force him to tell me?" I begged, fisting my blankets to my chest. "Gale, I-I didn't need to freaking know! We were alright! Everything, for once, was alright and now it's over! It's ruined!"

"You deserved to know," he reasoned sadly.

"Bullshit." I didn't want to know. I never needed to know. If I could have just wiped my memory clean, it would be okay. I wouldn't have felt so awful. Eddie would be in here with me, holding me and kissing me because we're in love and happy.

But, right now, we're not happy and I did feel like setting something on fire. Maybe Eddie, maybe myself... maybe both of us.

The man I loved had murdered somebody. Eddie had hurt someone. This person I knew in my very soul would never inflict agony upon any living thing had stolen a life... and he did it for me.

"Eddie never told me you tried to kill yourself right before it happened. I'm... I'm really sorry, Lem. You should have said something. I love you too, cupcake," Gale spoke up, turning the conversation in a different direction.

"I came so close multiple times. The night Kyla died, the day Eddie took me to the hospital... At least once a week, honestly, I came so fucking close to slitting my throat or tossing a toaster into the bathtub with me or-"

My body started to shake violently. I couldn't stop it.

Gale lead me into the bathroom before I upchucked. He held back my hair and rubbed my back, muttering that it was alright, I just needed to let it out. "I have nothing to vomit," I groaned when I finally managed to retain control of myself. With a sigh, Ale handed me some tissue to wipe the corners of my mouth. "I-I haven't eaten since..."

The door opened a crack and Eddie peered inside, his eyes heavy with grey. As much as it hurt, I wanted to plow into his arms. I wanted to be protected. "Clemmy, are you okay?" he breathed out, stepping inside.

I didn't respond to him. I collapsed on the toilet again and threw up.

Day two wasn't much different, other than the fact my friends both had work. "I'll stay home with him," Eddie had offered, but Gale said no. "I won't bug him! I just don't want him to be alone."

Gale was the one who ended up staying with me. He made us some pasta and we watched nostalgic reruns of Pokémon all day. By the time Eddie got home, looking as sick as I felt, Ale had already crashed hard beside me.

"Hey," Eddie muttered, giving me a hopeful nod. My eyes remained on the television and my mouth stayed shut. If I gave in and looked at him, I knew I wouldn't be able to stay together. "I picked up some sugar cookies from the store on my way back home. Ran into Lyric. He said they were Alto's favorites. Do you want one?"