Commentary Crew one-shots

Feels like the Walls are Caving in (Will x George)

George x Will

⚠️TW= Mentions of Mental illness, self harm, suicide, and blood.⚠️

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Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. George's fingers met the table in a synchronised fashion. He thought he'd grown out of this nervous habit. Apparently not. His heart was pounding relentlessly against his ribs, and nervous sweat plastered his dirty blonde hair to his forehead.

"George Andrews?" A serious looking woman with short brown hair called his name from the front desk and he stood up, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Y-yes that's me, George is my name." A nervous laugh erupted from his mouth and his freckle filled cheeks where tinged with red.

"Dr Helterage will see you now." She clicked around on the computer before quickly following up her first statement with: "Room 12, take a left keep going until you reach the fifth door on your left hon."

George awkwardly nodded then headed off in that direction, silently counting door numbers as he went, when he eventually reached room 12. It loomed above him, almost mocking him, or daring him to open the door. To truly address what's wrong with him. Just as he was hyping himself up to open the door. It swung open and a kind face met him.

"I take it your Mr Andrews?" The man, who was presumably his doctor said. George meekly nodded and walked into the room and headed towards a seat in the far corner.

"Well the results are in and, there's no easy way to tell you this but, you've got severe depression son." And, instead of feeling a weight drop in his stomach, he felt surprisingly... empty. He finally had a label on what was wrong with him. He wasn't just.. broken anymore. And despite what one would believe, George felt a small smile grace his features. He listened to what his Dr said, took his medicine and left, with a weight off his shoulders. Now all he had to do was tell his friends, family, viewers, editors.....

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In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Just like he practised he can do it. He can he really can! He can breathe, like a normal person he's not broken.. he, he isn't, he isn't broken.

"Then why am I locked in my boyfriends bathroom." George chuckled quietly to himself, devoid of humour. Tears of frustration built in his eyes. The one time he brings himself to leave his bed, after hours of lying there, trying to force himself to feel something. Anything. He can't even make it 5 minuets with actual people.

Shaking hands hold a glass and pills. 1 blue, 1 yellow, 3 white. George repeats to himself like a mantra. Salty tears roll down his cheeks as he takes his pills.

They're supposed to make him feel better... so why.. why does he still feel nothing. Nothing at all.

Light knocking comes from outside the bathroom door, and a soft geordie voice resounds around the room. "George are yer okay in there?". George listened to his boyfriends soft voice and responds with words of his own. "I-I I'm fine will. Just taking my medication innit, I'll be out in a min."

"Aight, I've made you an earl grey with a splash of milk, how you like it..". George felt so pathetic, tears welling up in his eyes. He can't even make himself a cup of tea on a good day, and here Will is looking after him. He doesn't deserve Will, and Will doesn't deserve a burden like George, fucking his life up at every turn. Maybe... maybe it'd just be better if George wasn't here. Wasn't here to be a burden to James. Wasn't here to upset Alex, who couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Wasn't here to disappoint his parents, who where cursed with a faggot for a son. Wasn't here to stress Will out, who would have to pick up the pieces when he inevitably fell apart. Again.

Uh oh. Those thoughts are sounding quite negative Georgie time for another pink pill. The patronising voice in his head sang at him. But George, he didn't want to live in this never-ending pain anymore, he never wanted to be a burden again. And most importantly he wanted Will to have a normal life. And that meant he had to go.

George slowly lowered himself into the bathtub, the less mess for Will to clean up the better. And he made 5 precise cuts on each arm. With each cut he felt more free, with each drop of blood, his precious life leaking away, he felt more sad. He, he didn't want to leave will. But he knew that's what's best. He hoped will understood that. And he carefully placed the note on the side.

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"Hey George I need a shite are ye done in there?" No response. George probably fell asleep on the bathroom floor again. Will kinda hoped that was the case. It was the only time George ever truly looked peaceful.

Will opened the door and saw the silhouette of George in the bathtub. "George you silly fucker, did ya really conk oot in the bath?" George was eerily still and Will edged closer. Pat pat pat, wills soft footfalls echoed around the bathroom.

"George I canne carry you so your gonna ha to-" Will felt his heart stop at the scene before him.

George, paler than snow, had an almost ethereal beauty surrounding him. His cherry red lips, parted as if to take in a breath. But those cherry red lips would never inhale air again. His freckle filled cheeks, home to tear tracks long since dried, and his beautiful ocean blue eyes started unseeingly into the ceiling. His arms where covered in a coating of shiny, red blood and his chest was unmoving. His white sub to WillNE shirt had artistic blooms of colour on. Stained from his own blood.

A choked, gasping sob interrupted the silent peace that held the bathroom as Will desperately shook George's corpse, screaming incoherently.

Will was in a dazed state when the police busted down the door and paramedics swarmed in. "Must have been the neighbours." Will thought in a dazed state.

Will picked up the note that sat on the counter and began to read.

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Thanks for reading the first of this series of oneshots, feel free to give me prompts, I promise they won't all be this depressing, if it's wanted tho I can make a part 2 to this, maybe the aftermath, alternate ending, or George's note.?