Taught {Lams AU}

Which time? -37-

(Wednesday)

Pip's POV

"You..." My voice gets stuck in my throat.

I choke up.

He watches me, no particular emotion. He just looks calm.

He tilts his head, listening.

"You tried to kill yourself, didn't you?"

He shrugs, "Approximately. Emphasis on tried." He sits back again.

"Why?" I knew why.

"You know why, Philip." He says with a sigh.

I nod. "H-how? How did you..."

He smiles a bit, "I know what you're asking, Pip." His smiles turns into a thin line. He closes his eyes for a bit. He looks back up and his eyes lock with mine. He frowns a bit. "Which time?"

Fuck.
That hit me like a train.
'Which time.'
He tried multiple?

I shake off the thoughts, "First?"

He sighs, "Hanging- my mom caught me while I was putting it up. That's when I got a therapist. That was my first mistake of many." He mutters the last sentence, averting his eyes to the ground.

My eyes get a bit glossy, and I feel my throat close up. "How many times?"

He stares at the floor, his brows furrowing again. He does that a lot. "I think 4 or 5."

I nod, though he can't see it. "Is it rude to ask how, with the other times?"

He shakes his head, looking at my face, "No. You wanna know?"

I nod.

"Pills, jumping, hanging- again, and then I sat in the middle of the road for that reason." His eyes jump from one place to another, not wanting to make eye contact.

"Oh. Shit. I'm sorry-"

"Don't." He states softly. He sighs, "It was in the past, plus it was my fault. Don't apologize."

I nod. "Was it scary?"

He lets out a small chuckle, a fake one, like when you're nervous or sad and want to cover it up. "Terrifying."

"God, that- that's terrible. How old were you?"

"Aged 14-17"

"Multiple times a year?"

"Yep. Twice when I was 16."

"Why then?"

"I could drive. Easier to do it without people realizing."

I nod.

"Sorry, for arguing with you earlier-"

"No, they should know. Thank you."

He smiles, "You know your dad talks about you nonstop, right? Like constantly. If we don't have a conversation topic, you pop in. About how he's so proud of you and how you're perfect." He pauses, "I believe it."

I feel a tear roll down my cheek as my smile grows. "Th-thanks. I love you guys."

He keeps his smile on while his eyes gloss over. "No problem, Philip. You're dad is right, by the way. You're pretty perfect." He laughs a bit.

I laugh, too.

And for once, during a shitty time, everything is okay.

I feel like it's going to stay okay.

Even better when the doctors tell me I can go home in a week.