Sander Sides One Shots

Addicted

~I'll edit this later~

Patton rummaged through his bedside drawer and pulled out his small little razor. He was on the verge of a panic attack but he'd stay out of it. He wouldn't let it take him over like he does every other time.
He was sick and tired of his panic attacks, he wanted them gone and he'll make sure they're gone. So he pulled out his razor and looked down at his scar covered arm. They were all healed because he hasn't had to do this in a while, but everything was becoming too much to handle.

He couldn't take it.

He turned around and leaned against the small table, he connected the razor to his skin and paused. He had to think this through, he had to put his sweater on afterwards. As soon as he was done. He needed to make sure there was enough blood for it to seep through the sleeves of the sweater so he couldn't cut as deep as he'd like to.

He finally moved the razor, gracefully sliding it against his skin. Little droplets of blood started to sprout out from the small cut. Patton relaxed a bit but it wasn't enough.

So he did it again. This time he did it a bit faster. A little bit less gracefully.
Then he did it again, faster, sloppier.
Again and again, his shaky hands pulled the razor from one side of his arm to the other. He added another and then another, eventually there was no more room on that arm, no cut was deep enough so nothing was soothing him as much as it should've. The mere thought of it not being enough made Patton start crying and his breathing to become uneven. He had to do it again, it wasn't enough for him. He needed more. He needed the pain to go away, he wanted the pain to go away.

He was addicted.

He moved to the other arm and repeated the same process. It wasn't helping him. After there was no room left on that arm he threw the razor across the room. He had accidentpy made these cuts too deep, blood was slowly pouring out from each cut.

He realized his mistake, but he couldn't fix it now. He should have stopped but he didn't. He shouldn't have listened to the small voice in his head to keep going. He should have stopped.

But he didn't.

Now he was sitting on the floor with tears pouring down his face and blood dripping from his arms. He wanted someone to be with him. To help him through this, but he couldn't get the help he wanted because he was too ashamed to admit that he had a problem. 

~~~~~

"Have you seen Patton?" Roman asked, walking into the kitchen where both Logan and Virgil had been.

"No, shouldn't you have been with him? You're best friends aren't you?" Virgil looked up at Roman, he had been speaking sarcastically, Virgil knew that he was Patton's best friend and Patton was his.
"Just because we're friends doesn't mean we spend time with each other all the time." Roman walked over to the fridge and grabbed a water before joining the others at the table.
"I'm just worried about him, he's been spending a lot of time away from everyone. I don't think it's healthy to be alone for such a long time at once." Roman sighed, going quiet as he continued to think.

"Perhaps he is in his room. Did you bother to check?"
"No...I assumed he would be here so I didn't want to make a detour that would be uneventful."
"See if he's in there then." Logan spoke as if it was the simplest solution ever.

Roman stayed silent as he stood up, abandoning his water on the table and walking back up the stairs and stood at Patton's door, he heard something bit the wall, something small because it wasn't very loud.

He cracked open the door and saw Patton sobbing on the floor, he quickly walked inside the room, closing the door behind him. Patton didn't look up, not noticing him so he kept walking towards him and then kneeled down in front of Patton.
"Patton?" At the call of his name he looked up, immediately putting a smile on his face and greeting Roman.