My friend is a psychopath -Sunstreaker fanfiction-

• Chapter 11. Wrong move

'Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to be here at nine?' Sunstreaker snapped. He's cranky today. 'I just visited Ratchet.' I showed him the medicines. 'What are they for?' He asked, taking them. 'My heart... my blood pressure 150/95 which is too high and it can give me a stroke. I didn't really feel good the other day... so, that's why I visited Ratchet.'

'Why didn't you tell me you felt sick?' He asked. 'Because it happened at home. Ratchet told me to take it easy,' I said. He sighed, 'alright, fine... let's do boring stuff then,' he said and gestured to me to follow him. 'Usually, I don't like doing boring stuff but I guess it doesn't matter today. I felt a little tired anyway. 'Mirage asked if we can help him organize his work,' he began. I hummed. 'What's wrong? Still worried?' He asked. 'No, it's fine.'

We sat down at the wooden table in the archive. He was talking about tactics on the battlefield and his experiences. My chest started to ache again. 'Hey...' he stopped talking and looked at me. I am missing a file...' he looked through his pile and handed me a few. 'You look pale...' I glanced at him. 'It's fine... I Uh, it's just hot in here, that's all.' I waved it off. 'It's not. The airco works.' He pointed at the system on the ceiling. I made fists of my hands and sat back. 'Hey, relax.' I grabbed some files.

'I am relaxed.'
'No, you're not.'
'I am!' I screamed and slammed my fist on the table. Sunstreaker jumped a little from the sudden action. My body was shaking. 'Why do you always need to keep pushing, damn it!' I got up and stormed off, slamming the door shut behind me. I needed to cool down. I headed towards the gym, it's the only place that makes me clear my head.

The more I think about the whole situation and my my brother, the more painful it started to be. I tried so hard to block everything. To erase the past and move forward but it seemed so hard and impossible. The pain just doesn't go away, no matter how hard I try or how hard I work. The pain is there and those stupid panic attacks, don't help. Sometimes I wondered why I kept doing it while this job is breaking me. Why am I doing something that's mentally and physically breaking me? Perhaps because I didn't want to look weak and put family to shame for not continuing and grieving so much.

'I thought Ratchet told you to take it easy and this is definitely not helping. So stop it.' Sunstreaker grabbed the weights from me. 'Sunstreaker—' he cut me off. 'No! It's an order,' he snapped. I sighed softly and watched him place the weights back. 'Did this all help? To clear your mind?' He asked. 'It did... it makes me forget.' He nodded and studied me. 'Take a shower and meet me in the cafeteria in about 30 minutes,' he ordered. He didn't leave any space to argue.

That night, I couldn't sleep. The nightmares kept me awake. I screamed and turned on the lights. My heart was racing and my chest was painful. I looked around the room, taking note of every detail. It helped me to forget about the dream and focus on something else. I reached for my phone 1:34. I headed downstairs, getting myself some water. I can't remember I had a nice dream or a peaceful sleep.

Even though my dreams are always about the 'accident' this dream, was about Sunstreaker. I was scared I might pissed him off and he would kill me. I opened the drawers and checked if I still had all my knifes. I grabbed my phone and hesitated before I called him. I needed to know where he was and if he was mad. 'Skylla?' He sounded sleepily. 'Hey, are you mad at me?' There was a long silence. 'It's 1.45.'
'So you are?' I questioned. 'No, but I might will if you call me one more time at this ridiculous time to ask me a stupid question,' he snapped. He sounded more awake now. I sat down on the ground, leaning against the cabinets. 'Did you ever had nightmares?'
Again, there was a silence.

'What's this about? You dreamed I was pissed and I would come after you?' He asked. 'Sort off. I hate nightmares,' I muttered and fiddled with my pj pants. 'What do you usually dream about?' He asked. 'War, my brother... the accident. The scene keeps playing over and over again. I don't really know what to do about it.'

'Do you have a stuffed animal or something?' I frowned at the weird question. 'Yeah... but after I joined the army not anymore,' I mumbled. 'Right, grab it and try to sleep. Stuffed animals it brings a sense of security and reduces negative feelings, such as loneliness and anxiety. My brother has one as well... he doesn't talk about it but it helped. I have one too, but I don't talk about it,' he added. A weak smile pulled up on my lips. 'Try that, okay?' I sighed and nodded. 'Fine, thanks. I am so sorry for disturbing you.'

'You better are,' he scoffed. He hung up and I sat like this for a very long time until I was stiff and cold. So many emotions overwhelmed me. I got up and opened the drawer, grabbing a large kitchen knife. I cut myself, too deep. Blood splashed everywhere. Ok the walls and on the floor. I whimpered, sinking to the ground and grabbed a cloth, tightly wrapping it around my arm. Blood still seeped out of it.

I shivered violently while desperately trying to stop the wound from bleeding. I tied my arm off and bandaged it in the best way I could before I passed out on the floor.