Crossblood - Completed

Chapter 21

I appreciate all of my "ghost readers" thank you for reading my story and I hope you enjoy it. If you like it maybe leave a comment *wink wink*, it'd be nice to know how Crossblood is from a reader's view and not a critic's! PS the "whether it's from" part is supposed to be there twice. You'll know what I mean when you read it. This is supposed to be a short chapter too.

--------------------------------------------


~Julius's POV~


"Moon?" I fumble blindly in the dark, the red glow of the alarm clock informing me it's two thirty in the morning. It's ruby aurora stunning me as my eyes attempt to adjust.

Small cries answer back, my arm knocking over bottles as I grope the bedside lamp. "Moon? Are you crying? Moon?" Light floods the teal bedroom, a whimpering Moon stiff as a board beside me.

"Did I w-wake you?" He shakes, wiping away tears with the back of his oversized navy sleeves. "Sorry." Moon sniffs quietly to himself, smudging salty water over his cherry stained cheeks.

I roll closer to him, his body naturally falling back into my chest. "Nightmare?"

"My back hurts." He groans, tumbling over to his stomach and sprawling his arms over me. A hand smacking my nose as he squirms about.

"Bad?" I ask as I reach out to touch him.

"Don't touch it!"

Inching away my hand, I sit up on the circular mattress, elevating the bottom of his shirt with my pinkie finger. "It looks fine." I state, tilting my head for lack of better light.

"Well it feels bad"

Ignoring his snarky tone I reply: "Well then I'll go get your medicine. Where is it?" I ask, gingerly exiting the bed when I notice Moon tense up.

The luggage still remains piled in the corner, worn clothes thrown on top make it impossible to reach the bags buried below. Managing to grab hold of a small gray pouch, I open the familiar object searching through it's contents for his pills. "Where are they?"

"In the car."

"Where are the keys?"

"With Andrew."

"Where's Andrew?"

Moon cringes. Whether it's from the growing pain circulating through his back or his upcoming answer I'm not sure. "At work."

"Moon," I try not to make my sigh sound too annoyed with him. "do you have any other medicine?"

"In the closet somewhere I think. Maybe. I don't know."

"Calm down." I coax, his bottom lip quivering at being reprimanded. "I'm not mad at you." Just extremely worried...

The closet doors swing open to reveal stacks upon stacks of plastic see-through containers, only half with labeling still eligible on their sides. "Wh-"

"I don't know which one."

"Well," I start, sliding a container out Jenga-style. "I guess we'll have to go through them all.

A tinge of emotion crosses his features but pass as soon as they came. "Alright."

'Music' Reads the worn black Sharpie on the container's long side and dusty white lid, five years without use not doing it any justice. Placing the container next to Moon I continue with my scavenge, running across various candy wrappers and dust bunnies on my way.

"So..." I drag in an attempt to break the silence. Moon's attempts at holding in whimpers of pain becoming too heart wrenching for me to handle. "you're into music?"

"Mhm. You?"

"My cousin taught me to play the flute a while back. Other than that I have zero talent." I manage to squeeze a laugh out of Moon, the chime stopping me in my tracks. "What do you play?"

"Sixteen different instruments, I can't really name them off the top of my head at the moment."

"Understandable." I grunt, carrying another three boxes to the bed.

'Documents'. With a bit of elbow grease the lid pops off revealing everything from magazines to certificates. "You were the cover of Magix?!" I screech, snatching up the papers for a better view of the picture. "I never knew you were this talented at spells, Moon!" He shrugs off the compliment, acknowledging the photo instead. He's smiling against a wall, foot kicked back and hands slammed in his pockets. MAGIX printed above his head and various tidbits scattered around his photo.

A news clipping catches my eyes, the magazine slipping from my grasp as I fetch the faded print. "Jules." The hint of pain, emotional pain, has me stopping to take a second look at the headline. 'California Killers Or Helpful Neighbors?' "Please?" He begs.

"Why do you have something you don't want to see?"

"It was important at the time, Julius just please don't read it." I throw the clipping back in it's box, sliding the lid back and moving on. "Wait not that bo-"

Too late.

I snatch Moon's hand in mine, pushing up his sleeve to reveal unscarred arms. "Julius." He whispers, something childlike hidden behind his features.

I'm more confused and saddened than frustrated at the contents of the box. Razors dismembered and blood stained with various band aids thrown from their boxes. "Do you hurt yourself?"

Tears begin to stain his cheeks, still dyed a cherry red. Whether it's from the pain in his back or our current conversation I may never know. He's too difficult to read, especially on occasions like this. "Julius..." He hiccups, cradling his knees to his chest with one arm, the other I've yet to let go of.

Scooting the box over I slide in next to him, staring down at the water droplets soaking the bed. "Why?" I question, genuinely trying to wrap my head around it all.

"It helps." Moon smiles as I catch a rolling tear off his cheek. "When you've been through as much shit as I have you try to find every way to make it better...no matter how dangerous."

The minutes pass in silence, only a sniffle here or there to break it. "Do you use spells to hide the scars?"

"Kai's the one that does his arms." Moon says, pulling his away from me and holding it close. "I cut my thighs."

He shifts away at the sight of my outstretched hands, covering his legs with his chest as he leans over and immediately regretting it. "My back." He cries, reminding me of how I found the box in the first place.

"Drugs. Alcohol. Suicide pamphlets. Moon what the hell?"

"I've been going to therapy. It's gotten a lot better!" He adds on in a rush, afraid to get me upset. "I'm on medication too, me and Kai both."

"This conversation isn't over." I say, noticing Moon wincing out the corner of my eye.

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

"Will this stuff put you to sleep?" I ask, holding the orange prescription bottle in my hand. "And you're absolutely sure it hasn't expired, right?"

"It's still good, trust me." He reaches out for the bottle but my grip only tightens on it. "Do you really think i'd try to do something with you right here?"

Trying my best to ignore his comment and hurt stares, I untwist the cap and pour out the recommended amount, handing that to him instead. "Just take the damn medicine."

"Why are you getting mad?!"

"I'm not angry!"

"Then why are you yelling?!"

"I'm no-" I stop myself, acknowledging just how different the silence is now. It isn't a calm silence, one where everyone is lost in their own thoughts, or admiring something too precious for words. It's the angry, frustrated silence, the silence that makes you want to scream and throw things and make the other person hurt and bleed and cry.

But you can't.

Because you love them.

"Moon I-"

"Don't." I wince at the blade balanced on his tongue, the bitterness he tries to hold back.

After stacking the boxes back in the closet, leaving out only the suicide pamphlet and his back medicine, I climb back into bed with Moon. He's still crunched in the same position, chest to his knees as I lay on my back beside him.

"Does it hurt to cut?"

"No." He breathes, shoulders falling heavily.

I roll over to my side away from the lamplight. "Does it feel good?"

"In a way...yes. Sounds crazy right?" He smiles down at me, tears welling in his eyes. "It's like saying treat a cold with cyanide." Moon pauses before removing a box cutter from the side drawer, extending his other hand towards me.

"What?"

"Give me your wrist."

"No! You may slice open a rather important vein!" I shriek, cradling my wrist to my chest.

"Then pull off your pants."

"Moon, you can't just-"

"I'll show you my scars." My eyes can't help but wander to his legs, where he sits back on his calves facing me.

With a quick nod I raise my hips, slipping down my gray sweatpants and pulling up the bottom of my underwear. My throat dries faster than spilt water in the desert, the blade extended towards my trembling legs. my entire leg quakes as Moon's steady hand drags the blade against my skin, droplets of blood rising up to greet the surface.

"It hurts...hey, wait a second!" I grab the box cutter from his grasp, having already tugged down his pants right above the knee.

"Please? I haven't cut in a while and it'll help me fall asleep."

Having stopped listening at please, my fingers brush the broken skin of his thighs in a trance. What once was tan is now a bleak gray in color, raised up from the skin surrounding it in thick lines. "I had to get stitches for some of them." He whispers, pointing out a line the width of a thumb.

"Was that when you tried to kill yourself?" I can practically hear the ice cracking.

"I-" Moon starts, taken aback by my bluntness. "N-no," He pulls up his hair with his hand, a dark line barely visible around his neck. "I hung myself."

"How-"

"It didn't break my neck like I hoped. I was halfway gone when Andrew found me, didn't speak to him for months I was so angry. That's why I'm not allowed in the bathroom alone for more than ten minutes."

With nothing left to say I watch Moon tear into his body with the box cutter, black-spotted blood dripping onto the sheets as it rolls off his thigh. "I hate my life." He murmurs, slowing his massacre to stare at his work.

"Moon, don't say that."

"But it's true." He sighs, leaning over his legs and folding his arms over his knees, ankles crossed tightly to keep the rest of him from trembling.

"Do you want a cloth? For your legs?"

I scan the bathroom for a washcloth, finally finding a dark green one and rinsing it thoroughly with cold water from the tap. "Will this-" A gentle smile plays at my lips, Moon fast asleep with his head lolled to my side of the bed.

With the blood wiped away from him I'm able to view the full extent of his wounds. They aren't deep at least, no fat showing through or uncontrollable bleeding.

"Thank you." A small voice pipes up as I throw the blankets over the two of us. "For everything...tonight and always."

I pet back Moon's hair, an odd habit of mine, and kiss where i'd flattened it. "That's what I'm here for."