Sticks And Stones

Waiting Game

*cursing in this chapter*

Keith's P.o.v.

"H-help!" I want to scream but the words won't come out. Mutters instead of screams. Only heard by my attacker. Not Michael. Not his rookies. But dad.

Bruises. Purple and yellow. Infected cuts line my legs all the way up to my chest. Oozing sticky red blood. Cuts put there by a kitchen knife in my dad's right hand. Dark purple-black bruises ring around my neck. Left eye swollen shut. Red handprints cover my collar bones. A firm left hand still wrapped around my neck. But that was 28 minutes ago.

I'm lying on the ground in the bathroom. Silently crying. No bandages, medicine, not anything. To cover it up. The teachers at my school don't give a shit. But the students sure do. If Michael sees, he'll beat me. He'll think it's funny. Same with his rookies. Same with lotor, my other main bully. But if pidge and lance notice. Shits about to go down. And let me tell you. There's no way that they aren't going to notice. Oh god... what have I gotten myself into! I'm so fucking stupid!!!

So stupid.... crying I get up. Check the time. 2:09 a.m. 1 hour and 13 minutes ago he started. It lasted longer than usual. I better get some sleep.

~time skip~

I walk out the door. A mile to school. I'm wearing a T-shirt. With a black jacket and black skinny jeans. To hide the cuts, scars, bruises , everything. I can't do anything for my black eye. So I cover it with my raven black hair. I walk up to the front door.  I push it open. I go through my first classes. Then lunch comes.

Lunch... I haven't eaten in 3 whole days. I never eat lunch. Never have. As I'm deep in thought I run right into lotor. My other bully. Falling to the ground I look up at a smirking figure. Here comes the punch.

I was right. Square in the face. Not once. Not twice. Not thr- wait... I look up and find a tan hand helping me up. Lance. Lotor has run away. He doesn't want to be caught either by the most popular kid out there.

Lances eyes widen as he studies my face. No... I got through math class and my other classes fine without them noticing. Was that all for nothing!?!? I do the only reasonable thing I could think of. And ran. I ran fast. I ran hard. I ran. I ran,  I ran, I ran. I ran away. But I didn't expect him to run too. Not away from me but towards me. To help me. To get answers. Not once in my life had I ever been chased by someone who cared. But instead of stopping I kept running. And I didn't stop.

But I did slow down. My ears pounded. My vision was swimming and so was the food I ate 4 days ago. I fell to my knees holding my stomach. I coughed and coughed until I heard footsteps slowing down to where I was. A gasp and a second later, I was on my side my vision fading in and out. Gaining black dots. The all to familiar feeling of fainting.

I didn't know who it was. Or even what it was for that matter. I closed my eyes completely as I felt strong sturdy arms pick my up. Almost like a baby. I hated it. Being so vulnerable. I'd probably never hear the end of it from my so called hero. They should've left me. Everyone has. I don't understand. Why'd they even have the heart to care. But whatever. I finally fell into the darkness. Cradled in the arms of my mystery saviour.  My head curled into their chest. And I finally relaxed.

Lance P.o.v.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god. WHAT DO I DO! My crush. My friend. Keith is cradled in my arms. Passing out while all I can do is stand here. With my mouth wide open. Okay no this is okay. I stand watch a little longer as he slips fully into unconcessness. His head curls into my chest as his body relaxes. It's been about a month since the first week of school ankle incident. But this really worrys me. I run to the school nurse who conveniently is out at the time. Just. My. Luck. Just great! Please note the rare sarcasm in my voice. 

I help myself into the back room and lay Keith down on one of the beds. My father's a doctor so it should be easy enough. He really only has a few cuts, bruises and a black eye. I clean those up but just to be sure I take off his jacket. Humming slightly to myself to help myself feel better. My eyes widen at the cuts still oozing red blood covering his almost all purple and yellow arms. There's hardly even one place on his arm that isn't bruised a sickly colour. I clean those up and take off his shirt. Somehow still surprised at the cuts and bruises I knew would be there. I can't do anything for his purple ringed neck lined with red handprints. But I hope it doesn't hurt to much. I sit back and admire my handy work as he looks kinda? Sorta? Almost? Better. When I notice blood seeping down his ankles. Sighing heavily not in the least bit surprised but uncontrollably worried I put his jacket and shirt back on whispering a quick and quiet sorry. As I pull off his skinny jeans and quickly dress his wounds pulling his pants back up. All while he's unconscious. 

There's nothing more I can do now except wait. So that's exactly what I do.