Nothing's Fine

• 33: Stained •

* Author's Note: TW for SH in this scene.

"Oh my God!" My voice came out hoarsely.

Mason was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the bathtub. I'd seen the scars both newer and older, but this was different. The silver piece of evidence of what he'd just done sat on the edge of the tub. I'd been there myself before. It was small, but could do a lot of damage. And looking at Mason, I could tell it was no different here.

"I-I hadn't done it since before the meadow. I was really trying." He was staring down at his stained wrist, and glanced up at me. His face was blank, but his voice was thick and his eyes were swimming in unshed emotions. I swallowed hard and closed the bathroom door behind me.

"Oh Mase," I whispered, locking eyes with him for a moment. I grabbed a dark towel off the counter and wet it slightly under the tap. I crouched down next to him and placed it on his wrist. "Press this tightly." I reached beside him and picked up the tiny metal off the bathtub and wrapped it in toilet paper before throwing it out. "I'll be right back."

As quietly as I could, I ran downstairs to get a small plastic bag and then raced back to Mason. I filled the bag with cold water in the bathroom, not wanting to leave him alone for too long. Once tied, I put the bag on top of the cloth that was on Mason's wrist.

We were silent as I kept the pressure on his wounds. A million thoughts threatened to make their way to the forefront of my mind, and so many words wanted to escape my lips but I couldn't let any of them surface.

After a few more moments, Mason spoke. "I think the bleeding stopped."

I took the bag off and dumped the water into the tub, then took the cloth and threw it into the empty bag. As Mason got up to disinfect his wounds, emptied the garbage into the plastic bag and cleaned any traces of the night off the tub. I tied the bag shut and brought it downstairs to the bigger garbage bin as Mason bandaged his wrist.

As I washed my hands in the kitchen, I let out a breath that I felt I'd been holding the entire night. A couple tears managed to slip onto my cheeks and I quickly brushed them away before heading back up to Mason.

Walking into the bathroom now, no one would ever have known what occurred just mere minutes ago. Mason had rolled his sleeve down, covering the bandage and was leaning against the counter.

"Are you light-headed?" I asked quietly.

"A little, but I'm used to it," he replied easily. I frowned slightly at that. It wasn't uncommon, but it wasn't okay either.

"Come with me," I ordered. Mason followed me wordlessly out of the bathroom, shutting the lights off behind him. We walked downstairs into the kitchen and I turned on the valance lights. "Sit."

Mason sat down at the kitchen table while I got a glass from the cupboard and poured him some juice. I placed it down on the table in front of him and turned to get him a snack.

"Thank you," he said. I pulled out a granola bar and brought it to him. He picked up the glass with his good hand and thanked me again for the snack. I gave him a small smile as I watched him eat.

"How do you feel?" I asked after a few moments. It seemed surface level, but there were layers to the question. Mason's eyes met mine and held my gaze for a moment, understanding that.

"It was a slip. I'm sorry," he whispered. I shook my head.

"You don't have to apologize. I just want to know how you're doing," I said softly.

"It stings a little," Mason started. "But I'm okay now. I promise." I eyed him trying to read him. It felt sincere, deeper than a physical okay, but of course I was worried. "You can go back to sleep if you want. I'm really okay." 

"I want to stay," I said firmly. "Besides... I wasn't sleeping before." I leaned against the counter. Mason eyebrows knit together and I watched as his gaze flicked over to the stove clock.

"Charlie, it's 4:30 in the morning and you haven't slept?" Mason asked.

"Neither have you," I replied quietly.

"That's different... you still have a concussion," he said. I shrugged, shifting my weight on my feet. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm going to get a blanket." With that, I quickly headed upstairs and grabbed my big blanket off the bed.

As I walked back downstairs, a couple of those thoughts slipped to the forefront of my mind. Was it my fault? I was too cold. I probably made him feel awful. I felt responsible, though I knew he'd deny it if I said anything. He'd be just saying that. I should've stayed with him in the first place. It was my fault... All my fault. Everything is always my fault.

I didn't realize I was at the bottom of the stairs until I tripped over the blanket. I landed on the floor with a light thud, that was hopefully not loud to wake anyone up. I sat there for a moment and took a deep breath.

Charlie, get it together. I told myself. Don't make this worse.

I stood up as Mason walked out of the kitchen. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I just tripped," I explained with a smile. I was very sure it looked more like a grimace but it was the best I could do. He took the blanket from me as we started walking into the living room.

"Charlie, I didn't mean physically," Mason began. I plopped down onto the couch. "You seem... I don't know but –"

"I just can't turn my brain off tonight," I sighed. Mason sat down beside me.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Everything..." I mumbled. "Irene...you..." I almost didn't hear myself speak.

"What do you mean?" Mason asked.

"I just keep wondering–" I stopped myself mid-thought. "It's fine. Doesn't matter. Let's watch Insidious."

"Charlie, are you sure?" I knew he didn't mean my movie selection.

"Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine," I said, hoping it would convince both of us.

Author's Note: Hi loves! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! I know it was a sad one. I tried to depict this Mason's situation in a way that would hopefully not be too hard to read. 

That being said, if you or anyone you know are struggling with S.H, please reach out to someone you trust or a mental health support line in your area. It's not something you need to go through on your own, and deserve support and care.  Each and everyone of you are so important whether or not it feels that way. Please, try to be gentle with yourselves.

Sending love and light to each and everyone of you! xoxo