Call It Home (Adopted by Brendon & Sarah Urie)

1.1

tw

I woke up screaming.

Brendon was by my side, trying his best to calm me down. A lady I didn't recognize stood at the foot of the bed, I assumed it was his wife.

"Shh, Cate it's okay. I'm here." He ran his hand through my hair, and hugged me tight.

"Brendon he hurt me." I cried into his shoulder.

"I know. I have you he can't get you. I promise. Here." He handed me a cup of ice water, that I drank slowly, calming my tears.

"What time is it?" I asked, setting the cup on the night stand behind me.

"8 ish." Brendon answered, easing his grip on me, and hugging me more gently. "We have to go do something. The three of us." Brendon said.

"I'm still tired." I leaned onto his shoulder.

"I know, you only slept like 5 hours, and you don't sleep a lot to begin with." He rose an eyebrow at me. "I'll get you more coffee." He promised, and I nodded, thanking him. "This is my wife Sarah." Brendon let go of me completely and motioned to his wife.

"Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Catelyn. Sorry that was kinda over dramatic." Her and Brendon shared a look.

"No, you're okay. It's nice to meet you." I gave her a light smile. "You wanna sleep for a little bit more?"

"No. I'm okay." Brendon glanced at me.

"Do you want breakfast?" Brendon asked. "Do you want a change of clothes?"

"I'm okay." I promised him.

"I'm gonna make you breakfast." He decided, and walked out of the room. Sarah followed him.

I climbed out of the bed, and quickly remade it. I stood up and looked into the mirror that hung on the wall. My curly black hair was messed up from sleep and sitting in the wind, my eyes were red, not even getting started on my clothes. My black leggings were okay, but my long sleeved t shirt had tear marks and a coffee stain. I don't know when either of those got on it. I grabbed the hair tie off my wrist, and flipped my hair over to tie it into a messy bun.

I debated putting on the t shirt Brendon had left in here from last night or leaving on the one I had. A pro was a clean shirt. A con was said clean shirt was short sleeved, and I had cuts too recent to be wearing a short sleeved shirt.

Whenever I cut, I don't ever think about it until after it's done. I don't think about the extra steps I'll have to take to just live normally until they heal. I just need to feel the pain, in that moment.

I gave in, and put on the black t shirt.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, now that it was light, I was able to make out the features of the house. It was nice, clearly well kept up, and very put together. Everything had a place. I liked that.

"Here." Brendon motioned for me to sit on a barstool, and handed me a bagel. "I'm making eggs. They'll be done in a second." I nodded along, and took a bite of the bagel with the hand that didn't have cuts on its wrist, that had stayed glued in my lap.

"Where'd Sarah go?" I asked.

"She's getting dressed." He replied, glancing back at me from the stove. "How quick do you need to be back? Like medicine wise."

"I mean technically I'm supposed to take them with breakfast and I already broke that rule so I guess it doesn't matter at this point."

"I wish you would've told me that we could've gone there first then come back for breakfast." I looked up at him, confused.