You Have My Attention

Twenty-Two

« Winter's POV »

Bang-Bang-Bang.

I awaken with a start, sitting up straight from my sleeping position on the couch. My eyes are wide, and I have chills from the poor heating system in here. I swear I'd just closed my eyes like an hour ago. In fact, I did. It's currently one in the morning. I'd managed to fall asleep around midnight.

I let out a slow, shaky breath and take silent, cautious steps toward the door. I peek through the peephole and gasp, backing away to open the door up.

Kason steps in, eyes glazed over. He has blood oozing from a cut on his cheekbone, right underneath his actual eye. He stumbles in, and I have to catch him. His weight is completely supported on my own, but I manage to shut the door, lock it, and drag him to the couch.

"What are you doing here?" I ask frantically, assessing his face for further damage. "And where's Emily?"

"Kass has her," he slurs, eyes focused on me intently.

"Kason," I say slowly. "Are you drunk?"

"Just a bit tipsy is all."

I sigh worriedly and go into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and two aspirin I'd had and brought with me. Is this what Sam was talking about? Is this something at play because of his depression? How am I supposed to help?

I bring back the water and medicine and tilt it against his lips. He gratefully chugs it before downing the pills with it. I lay his head gently back, making him lie in a resting position. He closes his eyes and sighs before reopening them. When he does, a fresh pain is revealed.

I analyze his body, looking for any other wounds besides the cut on his face. I don't find any injuries, but I do see something bulky in his pocket. When I recognize the metal object, my eyes widen, and I move back a little. He follows my gaze to the handgun and releases a long breath.

"K-Kason? Is that loaded?" I ask shakily.

He grabs it and takes a rectangular clip out, emptying the single bullet inside. It clinks on the ground before he drops the gun in the same motion.

"Not anymore," he grumbles.

There was one bullet inside. One. There is one reason for one bullet.

He was planning on shooting himself.

"Kason..." I whisper breathlessly.

Tears sting my eyes. How could he want to take his own life? Does he think no one cares about him? Because that's not the case. I know of at least one person who most definitely cares about him.

"You're a good person," I state firmly, voice shaking a little. I was glad the gun was now unloaded. They make me nervous.

He looks at me, eyes red from the alcohol and exhaustion. "No I'm not, Clumsy. I left you alone. I made you want to leave. If I were good, you wouldn't have left."

My heart sinks. "You thought...no, Kason. I left because I thought you hated me. I left because I thought I was the problem. Not you."

A silent void occupies the apartment. This is what Sam had warned me of. She said I was the thing that could stop him from killing himself. I wreck my brain for something unique about me that could do this, but I come up short. What can I do?

Just talk to him, my subconscious groans in annoyance. Talk to him and find out what you're good for, if anything at all.

I sit down on the floor and grab his hand. I tell my subconscious to shut up and save its idea for later when he's sober. For now, all he needs is someone to coax him from the current drunken pain and into a deep sleep. In the morning, he'll need someone to help him puke his guts out and to recover from a horrible hangover. After that someone gets him good food to eat, then we'll talk.