Roadtrip Oneshots (BxB)

Bikey•It'll be ok

hi this is probably very triggering and depicts a depressive episode/ panic attack? also mentions self harm. 

-X- 

Screaming.

He's screaming, raw pain being shown as tears streaked their way down his face. He didn't care who heard him anymore, he was in so much physical and emotional pain. He can't stop. He can't register what he's actually doing. He just knew he needed to get it out of him before his heart just gave up - not that it would be a bad thing. 

Exhausted. He's so exhausted but he can't stop the screaming. His knees so weak they buckle underneath him, leaving him a sobbing mess on the floor. Running through his mind were all the times he had disappointed someone, all the times he messed up. He just wanted to die.

He starts banging his fists on the hard wooden floor, leaving them bloody and bruised. They felt broken - good. He hoped they were as broken as he felt. He hoped that the bones in his hands were shattered, like his mind was. He deserved it.

He didn't want to feel anything anymore; he didn't want to feel pain, sadness, loneliness, fear. Weak human emotions and he didn't want to feel them anymore. He didn't want to face his mind, knowing it would submerge him in dark thoughts and tantalizing nightmares that plagued him everytime he closed his damn fucking eyes.

His throat was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper. He supposed the screaming had caused that. But it didn't stop him. His chest felt like a fire had been ignited inside, burning his lungs everytime he drew a breath. Another reason he wanted to just stop living. 

He felt like he was loosing his mind. The hand that was so injured weaved its way into his hair, yanking at it, trying to stop it from happening. He was scared. As much as he hated to admit it, he was goddamn terrified of himself. He was a danger to himself and he knew it.

His blinks were getting longer. He felt the urge to just close his eyes. They were sore, probably red raw. Maybe, just maybe if he closed his eyes for long enough, he would never have to open them again. But he knew that was highly improbable. 

The unbearable sting on his arms was getting too much for him. He started whimpering. The thin cuts were leaking beads of blood. Most dry, others fresh. There were so many, way too many to even begin to count. None of them were deep enough to fatally harm him, but deep enough to cause him an indescribable amount of pain. Adding on to that, his knuckles had began  throbbing

 Everything in him just gives out, completely limp and overused. He feels so drained, and so, so tired. All he can do is curl up as small as possible. His heavy eyes don't focus on anything, blankly staring ahead. He doesn't hear the door opening behind him, or slamming shut.

"Mikey? Mikey I'm- Oh my god MIKEY"

In that moment he regrets everything that he's done, guilt twisting heavy like lead and ugly in his chest. He can so clearly hear the anguish and panicked horror in his voice. Tears well in his eyes as Brooklyn suddenly falls into his vision, thudding hard onto his knees and scooping Mikey into his lap with a grip underneath his shoulders and behind his knees. He still can't find the strength to even focus on Brooklyn's face, but he knows he's frowning, saying things he doesn't understand and choking back sobs.  

"Fuck Fuck Fuck Mikey. What happened? What happened to you I thought you were getting better. I thought you were ok"

Mikey doesn't know how he has any left, but he feels the tears cascading down his face as his boyfriend handles him, hugging him like he's going to disappear. Knowing that he had caused pain to yet another person he loved tore him apart.

He finally gathers the strength to reach up to Brooklyn's face, brushing the younger boys tears away, cupping his cheek. He looks into Brooklyn's emerald green eyes, noticing for the first time the fear and concern swimming in them, He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing he had caused this. He had caused this pain and now he would have to deal with the consequences.

"It's ok Mikey. It'll be ok. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. I'm sorry I left you like that. Just please...don't leave me. Please don't leave me"

"I- sorry" His voice was scratchy and weak, and mighty as well not been there at all. 

"Hey, Mikey Look at me. It's gonna be ok love. I promise you. It's going to be fine" He sounded desperate, scared and more like he was trying to convince himself that it would be ok.

Mikey didn't know how long they were sat there for, but it must have been longer than an hour. Brooklyn was sat, his arms wrapped around Mikey's head, trying to protect him from the demons inside his mind. Before long, Mikey is worn out, exhausted from his breakdown. 

With shaking hands, Brooklyn gently lifts Mikey from the floor, walking down the hall  towards his bedroom. He jostles Mikey slightly, causing him to wake and look around confused.

"It's ok. It's ok Mike. I'm gonna clean you up and then we're going to go to bed" Brooklyn explained calmly. He laid Mikey down on the bed, leaving to go and run a bath. Mikey laid there, ashamed that Brooklyn had found him like that, but too exhausted to move.

He blinked, but it had been a long blink and 5 minutes had passed. Brooklyn re-entered the room, announcing that Mikey's bath was run. He tried to stand up, swaying too far left and almost toppling over. Brooklyn was straight by his side,  wrapping his arm around his waist, supporting him.

"Easy babe. C'mon lets go clean those cuts" Brooklyn soothed, running his hand down Mikey's side.

It was embarrassing to say the least. Having Brooklyn help him undress and get in the bath. The water stung his cuts. He didn't want to say anything, but Brooklyn seemed to know he was in pain. He poured the water over them gently, and he wiped the dried blood away carefully. 

Once Brooklyn was satisfied, he helped Mikey out the bath, drying him down. In no time, he was dressed and they were in Brooklyn's bed. He was lying on Brooklyn's chest, sighing as he listened to the younger boy's heartbeat.

"Mikey...I love you so damn much. You mean the absolute world to me. I'm so so lucky to have you in my life. You are such a kind, sweet and beautiful person and I honestly can't believe you returned the feelings I have for you.  I hate that you don't see yourself the way I do and I swear I'm going to try to help you see yourself in a better way. I love you too much to lose you" 

Mikey couldn't see much in the darkness of the room, but he swore he heard Brooklyn's voice crack, and the guilt came washing over him again. 

"I-I love you too Brooklyn. I really don't deserve someone like you. I-" He stopped, feeling the tears build up again. He couldn't find the words to say but Brooklyn didn't seem to find.

"No...Mikey. If anything, I don't deserve someone like you" Brooklyn sighed, nuzzling his face in Mikey's hair. Mikey melted into his touch. 

"Thank you, Brooky. Really. Thank you" Mikey mummered softly. He felt so tired, the exhaustion of everything really catching up on him. He closed his eyes, the rise and fall of his boyfriends chest lulling him off to sleep

-X-

i kinda like this? like the first bit? also, Bikey: another underrated ship which i adore

i don't see many mikey comfort fic things so yay.

love y'all 

-Lauren xx