how to become a wildfire

desperate

**Major TW on this chapter: suicidal thoughts, self-harm (cutting), physical abuse (hitting/grabbing). If you'd prefer to read a summary, just check the notes at the bottom.

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des·per·ate | \ ˈde-sp(ə-)rət
adjective
: having lost hope

.

xii
august
.

Gray can't do it.

He sits on the floor in the middle of the rose petals and shattered glass, holding the broken pieces and thinking over and over about how much easier it would be if he didn't have to feel anything. The tangled, confused knots would disappear, would unwind in red patterns that spread across the hardwood.

It wouldn't hurt anymore.

He lets the glass rest against his skin, traces the blue-and-purple fingerprints on his wrist until they're outlined with tiny beads of red. But he can't push harder, can't close his eyes, can't end it.

Because it would break Natsu's heart, and Gray can't do that to him.

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When Joel comes home an hour later, Gray's still sitting on the floor. Gray quickly pulls his sleeve down – the cuts aren't deep but he doesn't want Joel to see them. Doesn't want him to worry. Doesn't want him to tell Gray that he's too much to deal with, that he's broken and needs Joel more than ever.

Gray doesn't try to hide the mess because it'll make Joel angry, and Gray can deal with that better than the uncertainty.

"What the hell happened?" Joel asks as he steps into the dining room, work bag still slung over his shoulder, Bella on his heels. "Babe, are you okay?"

Gray looks up at him, confused. Joel's face is drawn in concern, and he drops his bag on the couch, gesturing for Bella to stay back from the broken glass. He kneels down next to Gray, reaching out for Gray's hands and wincing in sympathy at the cut on Gray's thumb.

"C'mere," Joel says gently, helping Gray to his feet and guiding him carefully out of the disaster. "Are you hurt anywhere else? C'mon, come sit down." Gray follows him numbly, sitting down on the couch and staring at his hands. Bella jumps up next to him, whining and nudging him to pet her. "Gray, baby, look at me."

The cuts on his forearms sting under his shirt.

"I..." Gray swallows. The knots are even more tangled now, and he wants to cry. Why isn't Joel angry? He's supposed to be yelling. "I'm sorry," Gray whispers.

"It's okay," Joel says. "I know it was an accident, I'm just worried about you."

He crouches down in front of Gray and touches Gray's arm through his shirt. Gray can see the dots of blood that have soaked through the fabric, and he winces when Joel rolls up his sleeve.

Gray's pretty sure he can't play the cuts off as an accident.

"At least they're not too deep," Joel says, running his thumb over Gray's other wrist. "Stay here, okay? I'm gonna go get the first aid kit."

Gray stares down at his arm, then looks up at Joel as he heads down the hallway to the bathroom. Bella whines again, and Gray runs his fingers through her fur as his stomach twists with guilt.

Of course Joel's being kind. He cares about Gray. He's always been here for Gray, always taken care of him, always loved him. And Gray's done nothing but lie and fuck up and make Joel worry.