Nick and Charlie One-Shots

Relapse

TW: self-harm

Charlie sat cross-legged on this bed, tears streaming down his face, soaking his lap.

Why was he so stupid?

Nick had left an hour ago, his jaw clenched and eyes shining with anger. He was trying to help Charlie eat dinner, but it wasn't working, and both Nick and Charlie got frustrated. When Charlie finally snapped, Nick was quick to yell, then finally storm out the front door. And Charlie didn't call him back.

Ding! Charlie's phone chimed, and he raced over to the other side of his room where it was sitting on his drum set stool to check the notification. He moaned in disappointment when it was just the group chat with Tao, Issac and Elle, so he switched his phone to silent and put it back on the stool.

Nick typically texted an "I'm so sorry" within half an hour of leaving, then came back shortly after with more apologies and a plea for forgiveness. But it had been double that time, and no text or Nick.

Charlie was slowing giving up hope. He sobbed harder than before, putting his head in his hands. Suddenly, his feet carried him to his bathroom and his hands locked the door. He went to his cabinet, where he pulled out a sharp, new blade. Closing his eyes, he felt the satisfying ache on his forearm that had been absent for five months. He cried in pain, but also in relief, because the physical hurt was taking away the emotional.

He hated himself for doing this, for relapsing.

He continued for a few minutes, until he had three four-inch cuts in a row, like a scratch from the claws of an animal. If someone asked, he would tell them he got attacked by a wild dog, and that seemed like a good excuse in his current state.

Suddenly, there was a bang on the door of the bathroom. Charlie looked up and froze in place as he was putting away the blade.

"Charlie, please come out, please stop. I'm so sorry." It was Nick, and his voice was so full of brokenness that it was hard to not listen to him.

Charlie slowly walked towards the bathroom door, unlocking the door and opening it for Nick. He covered his arm as he burst in. Nick was about the envelop him in a hug, but when he saw Charlie's hand covering his wounds he stopped. Charlie looked down and saw blood leaking from the spaces between his fingers. He burst into tears again, turning his head away from his boyfriend.

"Char, let me help you," Nick said softly in his calming voice.

He reached over and wiped the tears from Charlie's face with his thumb, making him smile weakly. Nick lightly grabbed Charlie's arm, removing his hand and bringing him to the sink. He washed the scarlet blood off, then went into the cabinet and pulled out the bandages. Charlie stood as still as he could as he gently bandaged the cuts.

"All better," Nick said.

Charlie wrapped himself around Nick. "Thank you."

"God Charlie, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry-"

"No, I got angry first, and it's my fault I can't eat. I'm sorry-"

"You aren't allowed to say the s-word."

"You keep saying it!"

"Because I'm the one who's done something wrong." Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair.

After a brief silence, Charlie asked, "Can you stay the night? When my parents find out what happened, they won't mind."

Nick nodded. "Okay, yeah."

"Want to watch a film until they get home?"

"Okay."

Charlie grabbed Nick's hand and brought him to his bed. They cuddled up against each other, Nick pressing a kiss to Charlie's cheek. They put on Tangled, Charlie's favorite movie.

"Thank you for always being there for me," Charlie said.

Nick smiled, kissing him. "I love you."

"I love you too."