Rejected Mate

Chapter 41 - "You need stitches."

There is no self harm in this story.

Drink water. Do it. Sleep. Do it. It's good for you!:)
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(Axel's POV)

She isn't safe.

She's drowning.

She burning.

She's screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

BANG
I slammed my head against my desk.
I was going crazy.
I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
I couldn't control my own thoughts.
I just wanted her safe.

I had piles of paper work on my desk from days of fighting, injuries, casualties, supplies, everything that needed a record kept.
After hours of trying anything to keep my mind off of thinking about all the ways they could hurt her, I finally found that the paper work was the only thing that kept my mind blank. I did nothing else for the next two days.
I didn't even eat.
When I finished the last paper, I started panicking.
My wolf was panicking too.
It started with pacing, and then I think I was trying to clean, but before long I had broken a glass and my hand was bleeding.
All I could do was stare at my hand. I didn't try to take out the glass, I didn't even move, I just watched the blood drip to the floor.
I could barely think, it was almost like it was in slow motion.
Drip...
I need stitches.....
Drip.... drip
.... why haven't I moved?....
Drip..... drip...... drip
..... that piece is really deep.....
Drip.... drip...... drip......... drip
"Axel!" Jordan broke me from my trance. "What happened?"
"I..."
"You need stitches."
"I know..."
He started walking out the door. "Then let's go."
We went to the hospital as quickly as we could, seeing as we couldn't really put pressure on it since there were still large shards of glass stuck in my hand.
I ended up needing eight stitches.
On our way back, Jordan of course wanted to talk about Scarlet.
We were around ten minutes from the pack house when he finally spoke up.
"Listen.... I know it's diff-
"I really don't want to talk about her right now. I don't even want to think about her."
He stopped walking and stared at me, but I refused to face in his direction. "It might be good for you." He mumbled.
"Good?" I chuckled sarcastically. "For the first day, all I could do was think about her. About how she could be dying, she could be being tortured, what she would look like. What she would be like when we see her, when she sees me, or her friends! Would she be able to do basic things when she gets back- if she gets back. It's never when, it's always if! We don't know if she'll be back! Would she be upset with me for letting this happen?! Would she even talk to me?!" I stopped, finally looking at him. "That's what happens when I think about her, that's what happens when I talk about her. Why do you think I did this?" I lifted my hand for him to see.
He stared at me in shock. "You did that on purpose?"
I jolted. "I..."
"Axel. You can't do that. That's not good." He said firmly, like somehow just the tone would get it into my mind.
I really hadn't meant to break the glass or hurt myself, but lack of sleep made the memories fuzzy. "Is it worse then what I've been doing?" I questioned angrily. "Jordan, what would you have wanted me to do? What could I have done that would have been better? Or better yet, what would you have done? Jordan, I am tired. I am exhausted! I've been doing paper work for the past two days, I haven't eaten or slept in that whole time, Scarlet -my mate- is missing, her life could be in danger, and all I can do is sit and wait! I don't want to talk, I don't want to think, I just want her back!
"I understand that-
"You don't understand, Jordan! So don't say it!" At this point it probably looked like I was about to punch him, but I wasn't, I was just angry. "I totally understand you wanting to help, but telling me you understand, trying to make me talk out my frustrations, is not the way to do it! I'm obviously not going to break a glass in my hand again, and I'm not going to shoot myself in the foot or stab myself, so you can stop worrying! The only thing that will help me right now is being alone." I took a step toward the pack house, "Thank you for taking me to the hospital." and walked away.
When I got back to my office, I cleaned up the glass, the blood, and picked up my chair which had fallen in the rush to get my hand stitched up.
When I sat down though, I couldn't stay still, I was too angry, too agitated, too ready to do anything besides sit around all day doing nothing!
My thoughts weren't even words, they were colors, most of which were red.
I eventually stood up and headed to my house.
When I got up the first staircase I stopped next to the first door on the right; Scarlets door.
Knowing the mental state I was in, I barley hesitated before stepping in.
I left the door slightly open on purpose, sat down with my back to the wall behind the door, and that's where I stayed for the rest of the day.
It definitely helped, but now instead of being angry, I was just sad.
I closed the door behind me when I left.
I was so exhausted when I got to my room, I was out the second my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next day, all I could think about was food.
I ate a sandwich; no eggs.
Looking at the clock, it was 6:00 AM. I had went to sleep at 1:00 AM.
I shouldn't have woken up this early.
I went up to the music room and sat at her piano.
A while later I opened it and started trying to figure out how to play the first song I had ever heard her play.
It wasn't very difficult to figure out.
After a few minutes, I tried to figure out other songs to distract myself, but eventually even that wasn't enough; the only distracting thing had been the clicking sound made from whenever my stitches and the keys touched.
I looked to the clock. It was 8:24.
I kept checking the clock.
Time felt so slow.
8:40.
9:15.
10:01.
10:23
10:30
11:12
11:58.
12:05.
12:27
1:08
1:44.
2:18
And at 2:30 in the afternoon, I was contacted by a patrol team.
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