Three Simple Words

Chapter 28

The day came and went along with all of its patrons. Jess's parents were hesitant about him staying another night in the hospital, especially after the head of the hospital tried to convince him to go home but he was adamant as was Thomas.

The psychiatrist that had been checking in on him periodically finally made the decision to let Jess stay, citing that Thomas's mental health largely increased when he was there. Through all of the medical jargon, Thomas had the basics down.

They would keep him on a psych hold for the next day or two, after that because he was eighteen, he would decide where he would stay assuming he agreed to biweekly counselling sessions.

He couldn't say he expected anything else, he had read enough stories to know what happened during these types of visits. He just wished people would stop treating him like a patient rather than a person.

When Jess's parents came, they acted like he was going to jump out the window if they said anything too forward. Of course, he couldn't expect them to know what he needed but after being treated and thinking he was broken for so long, he didn't need to be reminded by others.

After Jess assured him that he doesn't mind sleeping on the chair, Thomas drifted into a restless sleep. His mind was full of memories. They started out of his mother, when he was content, happy even. Then they started to slip into the darker ones until his mind settled on one in particular.

It was the memory of the first time he cut. The magnitude of it didn't hit him until he was older but now, he could barely look at this memory without breaking down. Jess heard the sound but he saw Thomas. It was well into the night when he heard the other boy start to shift violently.

Jess knew Thomas had nightmares. Sometimes he heard the other boy sounding agitated in his sleep but every time, before he could work up the courage to wake the other, Thomas would awake with a start and made sure he was still asleep before Thomas would lay back to bed.

Jess wanted to confront him but he couldn't push the other boy. Thomas had to be ready to talk and Jess, even though he was tempted not to, had to respect that. This time though, he couldn't just let it go.

With trembling hands, Jess shook the other boy, startled when two caramel brown eyes locked on with his. Thomas shot up, his eyes dilated and his breathing rapid. The tears slipping down Thomas's face.

Jess tried to stop himself, to give the other boy space but his body did the opposite. He wrapped his arms around the trembling boy. Thomas was startled by the sudden action but melted into the other boy anyways. His body sagged against the raven-haired boy; his face buried in his chest. Thomas could vaguely make out the scent of what he could only describe as safety.

Once Thomas's heart returned to a normal beat, he moved his head enough for Jess could hear him but still kept his arms firmly around the other boy.

"I'm sorry for waking you up, you can go back to bed if you want" Thomas's added the last part timidly and with more hesitance then he wanted to admit. The truth was, he wanted Jess to tell him that he didn't mind and he would stay up as long as Thomas needed.

"Thomas, look at me... Please don't apologize, I'm glad I woke up because I want to be here for you when you need me, if you'll let me." Thomas could only nod in response, his voice failing him as he took in the words of the other boy.

He would have had a hard time believing him except Thomas could feel Jess's sincerity in the way he held the other boy. It wasn't something that he could just ignore, it felt real, a word Thomas hadn't associated with himself in a long time.

The minutes flew by but they felt like hours. Time had no relevance in these moments. Thomas pulled back, leaving Jess's body feeling cold and empty without the weight of the blonde.

"I had... a nightmare" Thomas started, his eyes refusing to meet the other boy's "Thomas, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." This time Thomas's eyes did meet Jess's "But I want to" and so he did.

He told Jess of the first time he cut. He was fourteen at the time, too young to be dealing with this type of suffering. His dad had been especially brutal this time. It was mostly verbal but sometimes that's worse. Thomas had asked his dad why he thought God had exceptions to who He loved.

It had been a bold and rash question but for a boy who grew up learning God loved everyone but he also condemned people for who they loved; he couldn't find the middle ground.

He instantly regretted his question as he saw his father's features change from the person he knew and loved to something that would scare even his mom. He could still remember every word flung at him as an insult, every feeling of inadequacy and guilt that was humanly possible to feel. It was horrible and vial and the start of everything.

That night after his father passed out in front of the television, he slipped into the bathroom. He had heard of people cutting before but he didn't want to be one of those people.

He thought naively that maybe he could push it all down that he could stop the temptation the razor blade brought. In a twisted way, he felt like he deserved it, that with each stroke he would be forgiven for his faults.

And so, with the world oblivious to his suffer, he ran the blade across his finger, testing what he could do. It hurt but it was nothing to the pain and more so shame that he felt inside.

It was winter at the time leaving the worry that someone would find out to the wind. The first time the blade crossed his skin, it felt like a prayer had been answered, the beloved fall after a viscous summer.

Finally, he has something to hold onto, some form of pain that was tangible, controllable. He truly meant to stop after that night but it wasn't that simple. It wasn't that he was addicted to pain, in fact it was the quite opposite.

He couldn't fathom that he deserved to stop, that he didn't deserve to feel this pain. The memory is faded after that but Thomas remembered everything from his father's words to the type of razor.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed that Jess's hand became intertwined with his hold. The firm hold was the only thing keeping Thomas in the present and not being sucked into the past.

When Thomas finally brought his eyes up from where they had been resting on the bed he was prepared to be met with disgust, hate even. He had been trained from a young age to see the worst in people that he sometimes forgot about the good.

Jess eyes held concern, yes, but primarily understanding and... acceptance. It took Thomas back the ill-conceived notions of where he thought this conversation was going evaporated before him.

"Can I...see them?"