kill me if i end up like you ↠ septiplier

p r o l o g u e

a/n: this entire fic is heavily inspired by this song and lots of personal stuff yeet

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"How old were you when it happened the first time?"

The sound of a harsh tapping filled the silence as a leg bounced against the tiled floor. A breath was sharply sucked in only to be shakily exhaled, no words were spoken, only teeth biting along dull nails and a pair of hollow blue eyes looking anywhere but this new doctor's gaze.

"I won't make you answer, Seán, but you know you should, it's good to talk about your traumas."

There was a flinch, and the foot immediately came to a halt.

"Please don't call me that," the voice was softly spoken but it was clear he was pained.

The doctor scribbled on his notebook, barely glancing up as he pursed his lips to the side.

"What would you like to be called then?"

A small pause.

"Jack."

There was a noise of approval and the pen scratched on the paper once more. The doctor flipped the page over, running the pen along the sides as he thought over questions to ask.

"Jack, do you remember what exactly happened that day of the assault?"

Green bangs fell on a sweaty forehead and there was a small nod as the incessant tapping started up again. He didn't speak, he waited for the doctor to prompt him.

"Tell me about it," the command was gentle, but it was obvious he wanted answers rather than the silence he'd been provided.

Jack swallowed, sniffing a bit as his eyes cast down to his lap where he placed his hands, wringing his fingers together. "It...It was a Sunday morning," he breathed out, his voice shaky as he told his story for the thousandth time, "I was forced to go to church with my cousins and their family."

The doctor focused on him rather than his writing, giving an encouraging nod to the trembling patient.

"I was five and at this church, kids can't stay with the adults, they're forced to go in the youth center," Jack licked his chapped lips before pulling the bottom one between his teeth, "I didn't want to leave my family, I was screaming and crying."

"But I...they still took me back there with the other kids except..." he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. "I was brought into a separate room by one of the youth pastors and h-he, uh, he told me to s-st-op crying and held me down and-and..." he couldn't finish his thought, he choked on his words like he usually did.

The doctor sighed softly, leaning forward and looking directly into glassy eyes that were slowly turning red with unshed tears.

"It's okay, Jack, you don't have to say it."

He nodded, his hand coming back up to his mouth to bite his nails. He didn't want to remember, it happened so long ago but it was the first upon many of his other problems. The church incident started it all, it was a planted seed that slowly blossomed into a painful life that sent Jack swirling into the anxious, suicidal mess that he was.

He didn't want to talk about his bad experiences and assaults, he wanted to go home and hug a pillow or something. He looked nervously at the clock, he could leave in five minutes.

"Are you taking your pills, Jack?"

Jack tilted his head to the side, going to shake his head but he turned it into a slow nod. It was obvious he wasn't, he was so jittery. His leg bounced higher and his hands shook from his lie.

"You know you need to take those," his doctor reminded, "if you don't, you'll have anxiety episodes, much like you are right now."

Jack kept his eyes anywhere but the doctor, scanning all the items he had on his mahogany desk. When his nails were bitten down to the nub, he picked at the skin on his lips. The metallic taste of blood soaked on his tongue when he ripped off too much.

"Have you tried any of the coping mechanisms your last doctor provided?"

Jack shook his head, glancing at the clock again. One minute.

"If you don't focus on getting better, I'm afraid we'll have to admit you again."

He made no reaction, they could lock him up in the mental hospital as much as they wanted, nothing would change; he'd always be damaged.

The doctor sighed, setting his glasses off to the side as he stood, noting Jack's flinch from the sudden movement. "You're free to leave, I look forward to seeing you next week, Jack."

He was out the door in an instant, walking briskly down the hall with his head low to all of the patients in their rooms. He was one of them before, and he'd probably be one of them again soon.

He was only allowed to leave the last time because it happened again during his stay, and apparently, he had the correct reaction a person is supposed to have when something like that happens to them, meaning he didn't harm himself. Now he only had to visit the hospital one to two times weekly to ensure he wouldn't have another mental break.

He didn't care anymore, he was exhausted of trying; he let others decide what was best for him now, which meant he'd be passed off from doctor to doctor until they gave up.

He believed Seán McLoughlin died a long time ago, and he left behind a corpse to walk on Earth. A corpse that unfortunately still had a heart that pumped blood, lungs that filled with air, and a mind that constantly replayed horrifying images of his past.

He wished he was actually dead, maybe then the hurt would go away.