Chapter 38

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TW: Another graphic chapter, please don't read if you're not in the right headspace. (I know it's tempting to skip TW's but remember to take care of yourself <3)

Tommy was quiet on the car ride on the way home; he was still very shaky and flinched at every noise, but was clearly relieved that Wilbur was taking him away from the psych ward. Wilbur, on the other hand, was contemplating his options. He didn't want to send Tommy to therapy again, and the psych ward obviously wasn't the right place for him; but how was he supposed to take care of someone with such complex trauma? He had no training, no experience, no idea of what he was getting himself into, and he was terrified of fucking up and Tommy having to deal with the consequences. A large part of Wilbur had been relieved to have Tommy in hospital; he at least had known that he was safe from self harm and suicide attempts, but there was no way he could guarantee that at home. 

He decided to pull into a petrol station carpark and turned around to look at the blonde. 'Tommy?' He interrupted the silence and Tommy jumped slightly.

'Y-yeah?'

'Uh, I'm going to be really honest with you - I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm clueless, and I'm so so scared that I'm gonna end up hurting you. How are we going to approach this?'

Tommy just shrugged, his lack of proper response just making Wilbur panic even more.

'Please Toms, I'm so scared you're going to end up hurting yourself and I don't know how to stop you.'

'I don't know how to stop me either.' Tommy's voice was barely over a whisper.

'You're not gonna... attempt again, right?'

'I don't know, Wilbur. You have to understand, there's nothing left for me here. Nothing's enjoyable anymore, and it's never going to be.'

'Shit.' Wilbur muttered under his breath. 'Tommy, you... you just have to give it time, okay? I... I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, I'm so sorry, you deserve so much better than this, I should be finding someone to help you, I-'

'N-no, Wil. Please don't send me to anyone else, they just make everything worse.'

Wilbur stared into Tommy's pale blue eyes and saw how tired, how dead they were. 'Okay. Fuck. Okay, but you have to help me here. If... shit. If you were gonna... you know, attempt, right now, how would you do it?'

Tommy furrowed his brow at Wilbur. 'You're asking me to brainstorm ideas for how to kill myself?'

'Fuck, I didn't mean it like that, shit, shit, shit... Fuck, I just want to keep you safe, I don't know how to do this.'

'Wilbur, it's okay. I, uh, I don't think I'm gonna do anything right now.'

'Okay...' Wilbur exhaled slowly. 'Please just promise you'll tell me if you think you will, okay?'

Tommy just nodded.

And so they continued the drive home, Tommy immediately heading up to his bedroom when they arrived back. Wilbur decided to give the boy a bit of privacy, and sat downstairs on a sofa, nervously picking at his nails.

Tommy began to search. He knew Wilbur would have emptied his room of sharps, but surely he couldn't have found all of them? 

He was right. 

Tommy found it tucked behind a picture frame on the wall, a shiny silver razor. He raised it and, without hesitating, began to slash it across his arm continuously. He'd missed this feeling. A pang of guilt ran through his chest as he began the second phase of his plan. He wished there was another way, wished he'd been able to do it sooner, wished he could have done it so that Wilbur wouldn't be the one to find his body.

He pulled the sheet of his bed and began to tie secure knots in it before looping it around one of the ceiling beams, standing on top of the bed and wrapping the sheet around his neck.

Third time lucky?

He jumped.

A/N: Ahhhh another cliffhanger! Sorry for no updates, I'm still on holiday but have managed to write this chapter quickly (although it is a little short!)

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