It Takes Two | ✓

Chapter 6

Today was the day Gabe was going to remove his stitches, by himself, like an idiot.

Alice was at work, the girls were at a sleepover, and Trist was... somewhere. He'd been avoiding Gabe with renewed vigor since the tsundere incident, so Gabe didn't expect him back any time soon.

Gabe looked at his back as best he could in the bathroom mirror and made a face. His stitches looked healed enough to remove, probably? He didn't really know, but they were itchy and having them in his flesh was beginning to skeeve him out beyond what he could deal with.

He started with the ones on the back of his hand in the hopes that they would be an easy trial run, but they were on his right hand and he was not left handed and neither were the scissors he was using. He did get them out eventually after a lot of tugging and accidentally pinching himself with the scissors, but it didn't bode well for the rest of his task. He got the ones on his arms with about the same degree of discomfort and struggle and then turned his attention to his back.

He was just about to begin at the top of a long row of stitches that started on his shoulder and arced down his back when movement in the mirror startled him into jabbing the scissors into himself instead. Gabe turned his head to find Trist watching him, eyebrows raised.

"What..." Trist said, his eyes on the reflection of Gabe's back in the mirror.

Gabe stood, frozen, staring back at him. He wanted to conceal himself, to somehow undo this situation, but it was too late. Trist had seen too much.

"What are you doing?" Trist finally managed.

Gabe shrugged and waved the scissors in a way that definitely failed at being as casual as he'd hoped. "Removing stitches."

"From your back. Yourself. With household scissors."

"Yeah, well." Gabe turned around to face the mirror because he didn't want to have to look at Trist anymore, then made a face when he realised that just gave Trist a clear view of his back. And then made another face when he realised Trist could see his face in the mirror, too. "If you want to do it for me, be my guest, but otherwise." He twirled the scissors.

In the mirror, Gabe saw Trist lean against the doorway. "Pretty sure you're supposed to get a doctor to do that."

"Well, I don't want to." Gabe swallowed thickly and hoped Trist hadn't heard the waver in his voice when he'd said that. He'd expected this whole undertaking to be a disaster, but not like this. "Anyway, go away. I need to concentrate."

Trist scoffed, but he did leave. Gabe immediately went and shut and locked the door.

Gabe tried to go back to picking the stitches out, but his hands were shaking now, making the task even more impossible. He wanted to cry. There was no way he could actually do this. Maybe he could get some of the more accessible ones out, but there were large parts of his back he had no chance of getting the scissors to at the correct angle and with the necessary precision.

A knock on the door startled him into nearly jabbing himself with the scissors again. "What?"

"Come on," was all Trist said from the other side.

Gabe didn't know why he opened the door. He didn't want Trist to look at him again or make more snarky comments. Deep down, though, he really desperately did not want to go through this alone.

"Come on," Trist said again, and when he started walking away Gabe followed him back to their shared room. There was a first aid kit open on the floor and Gabe's blanket and pillow had been moved down there as well. "Lay down on your stomach."