Rick drove me home in silence and when he parked outside my building, he came out of the car and followed me inside. I didn't say anything. Just silently walked down the hall. Silently opened the door. Silently made my way to my room in the dark. Silently changed in a shirt. Silently laid on my bed.
He laid beside me while I faced away from him, silently hoping he'd leave before I started screaming in my sleep but also hoping he wouldn't. I was too confused. Too angry. Too fucking exhausted.
He pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me, embracing me tightly as he pressed my back against his chest. That fear inside me rose once more at having this man strip away my walls without even so much as a sound.
"Please leave," I finally said.
"No."
I groaned, tilting my head and pressing my face into the pillow, biting into it.
"I'm going to hurt you."
"I stopped caring half an hour ago," he stated simply, placing a kiss on my shoulder. "Sleep, Angel. I'm here."
His words somehow comforted me, because I wasn't alone. Against so much effort, my eyes fell shut and no matter how hard I fought it, sleep took over me.
* * *
My demons were visiting me again, making a mess of my thoughts and memories, digging out the most painful moments in my life and rolling them up together into one person and haunting me in my sleep.
He stood, towering over me, making me feel so small. The sides of his eyes and forehead crinkled as he looked at me disapprovingly, his dark eyes piercing through mine, darkening as each moment passed. I held my breath, afraid of what he would do.
He laughed. His voice was such a menacing sound that I winced when he kept on.
"Stop!" I cried out.
He slapped me hard enough that I fell on the floor. I clutched my cheek and watched helplessly as he came closer. I tried to crawl back to my feet but he only pulled me by my ankles to hit me again, shoving me onto the floor as if touching me was the most repulsive thing one could do and gifting me with a harsh kick on the gut, making me heave and gasp for air as the blow blocked out my breathing.
"You can't run. You have no one."
He spat at me, literally, and stomped his foot anywhere that he could land on me, breaking every bone in my body with every blow.
"I own you!" he snarled, pointing a finger at himself to emphasize his reference.
I wanted to scream but nothing came out. He started dragging me, slamming me against the wall and kicking me as I begged him to stop. Everything hurt and it hurt more whenever I tried to move away from him.
"Stop! Please!" I cried out.
I managed to run and when I did, I didn't stop. I kept running in the darkness that surrounded me, not knowing where I was going. But then, he appeared in front of me and dragged me back to hell.
He didn't stop. He bled my dry. He ripped me apart and worst of it all was I didn't die. I didn't die when he tore through my chest and ripped out my heart. I didn't die when he yanked out every strand of hair on my head. I didn't die when he ripped my throat out with his claws.
I didn't die. I wanted to die. Why couldn't I fucking die?
I felt a tight grip on my arms but I'd shut my eyes, willing him to go away, to go back to the darkest corner of my mind and leave me be.
"Angel!" a voice called but it wasn't his. "Angel!"
His hands gripped me by the shoulders, shaking me to wake up. I could hear myself screaming and I gasped, my eyes snapping open, only to see a pair of wide eyes filled with what I could only assume was worry.
I screwed my eyes shut, telling myself it wasn't real and I was okay, even though I'd never believe it. I opened my eyes again, glancing around the room. It was bright. Brighter than what I was used to waking up in.
I tried to steady my heartbeat by taking slow intakes of breaths, trying to get my head in place again, in control. His eyes kept glued to mine and I could sense he was still worried even though I'd woken up.
"Are you okay?" Rick asked warily.
I scoffed at his predictable question, wincing when he reached a hand to cup my cheek.
Why is he still here?
His eyes searched mine, trying to understand what he had just witnessed and I was so afraid of what his thoughts were. I'd rather he thought of me wrongly and bitterly rather than with pity. I'd rather he hated me than to care for me.
His gentle fingers wiped away the tears that I hadn't realized had fallen. I bit my lip to hold back more tears.
"It was just a dream, it's over now," he assured me.
I shook my head. He was too ignorant. He didn't know what he was talking about. Nobody ever did. Everything was real. It had happened and it will happen again. The pain was so real that it killed another part of me. Broke another already broken piece.
It irritated me how pathetic I might seem to him right now. I hated being treated this way. The last thing I needed was pity from another person who could only say words of comfort but could never really do something to make it better, to make it go away. He would never understand.
He leaned his forehead against mine, his shallow breathing hot against my skin.
"Tell me what happened," he murmured.
I wanted to tell him everything, but for the life of me, I couldn't, or else he might leave me too, having him here felt right and I was afraid he already knew.
This is wrong.
I touched his face, starting to doubt if I wasn't still in a dream. All my dreams ended in horror, filled with pain and fear.
He leaned his face closer to mine and took my lips in his, kissing me tentatively before deepening it. I let out a sigh and parted my lips, our tongues slowly making their way back to each other.
My hands found their way to his hair and I pulled him closer to me, wanting to feel more of him, needing him to be real.
"Angel..." he whispered, his voice strained.
"Make the pain go away," I whispered, reaching into his jeans. "Please, get it out of me."
He groaned, gripping my wrist. "Okay, baby. But not like this."
He pulled my hand out of his jeans and shifted to lay on his side, holding me against him. I sighed and burrowed into him as he rubbed my back, his presence and gentle touch calming me.
He was so... wonderful and I just wanted to stay this way with him until all the pain and exhaustion went away. It somehow felt right even though I knew too well it was wrong of me to feel this way.
Realizing what I was doing, I drew my head back, suddenly feeling confused. I didn't want to be cared for like this, not through pity. Everyone who tried to always ended up getting hurt and I didn't want to hurt anyone else. Not him too.
I pushed him away, too confused and overwhelmed.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I shook my head. I didn't want to discuss myself with him. He'd already seen too much, even if it was as much as a glimpse, it was more than what I was supposed to show. He wasn't supposed to know about anything. I had nothing to offer but pain. Jude was enough. I was hurting my brother enough. I couldn't hurt more people.
I got off the bed and headed to the bathroom, not sparing him a glance. I jammed the door with the chair and quickly got into the shower, not caring that the coldness of the water stung my skin, or that I was still wearing my shirt.
After mindlessly staring at the wall, I sat on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, my sobs being hidden away by the loud running water. I didn't want to cry. I didn't even know why I was crying in the first place. All I knew was that I had to and it felt good to breakdown. To stop fucking pretending. To stop fighting.
I wanted to drink and get lost in another high but I was too tired to do either one. So I just sat there for who knows how long, letting everything out into uncontrollable sobs until I could hardly breathe.
When I got out of the bathroom, Rick had already left, but his shoes were still where he'd left them last night by the door.
Why was he still here? Jude was home. He'd know what I did. That I let this man in. He had made me promise not to let anyone in. It wouldn't do us well. It would only cause more pain. It would ruin people's lives.
Why am I so fucking stupid?
He was sitting on the couch with his back to me. He turned his head when he sensed my presence and I could see a frown on his face.
"Hi," he whispered as I took the space next to him.
I turned to stare at his face, wondering why such a beautiful person let himself be filled with my sorrows.
"Why are you still here?" I asked, keeping myself distant and cold.
"Jude told me I could stay. He left a while ago," he murmured, pushing a lock of wet hair out of my face. I flinched. He dropped his hand. "Are you hungry? Jude left some breakfast in the oven. I can heat it up for you."
When I didn't answer, he took my hand and pulled me to him.
"Don't," I said, snatching my hand back.
He frowned, trying to catch my gaze but I kept my head lowered, moving myself to the other end of the couch, away from him.
"I... I'm... just... stay away. Just stay away."
It made me angry to feel like this, so helpless, so confused. I hated it. I've let my demons win again and now I was on the verge of letting my emotions get the best of me. It couldn't happen. I refuse.
Turn it off.
"Angel..." he called as he tried to reach for me.
I hugged my knees close to my chest and rocked myself in a slow rhythm. I was losing it.
"Shut up!"
I clutched my head, trying to clear my thoughts but my demons were stronger. They were saying things to me that only made me want to disappear. I shouldn't have slept. I shouldn't have. I let my guard down and now they were haunting me. Why was he still here? Was he enjoying seeing me like this?
"Angel, just talk to me."
He reached out to me again and I flinched at his touch.
"Stop pretending to care, Rick! You don't have to! I can handle myself!"
He stared at me for a moment, frowning. "I do care, Angel. Very much."
I laughed mockingly at how his words could have easily fooled me if he'd said them when I was just a child. That would have done the trick and he'd have me crawling to him for more. Clinging onto him for comfort. But I couldn't let myself be any more pathetic than I was now. I was not a child.
"You don't. You just feel sorry for me and trust me, I feel sorry for me too," I spat bitterly.
I was still laughing but only it was a heartless laugh, so empty and mocking. He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off.
"Please. Just leave," I whispered.
"Angel-"
"Stay away from me, Rick," I said more urgently. "I'm no good for you. You don't want me in your life."
I shook my head when he reached for me again, as if wanting to comfort me.
"Just leave. Please, you need to leave."
He looked reluctant as he stared at me. Looking at me as if I was some scared little girl. It made me want to scream.
"Leave," I repeated.
He sighed in resignation and stood. I put my head between my knees, not wanting to watch him go. He kissed the top my head and murmured something in my ear but I didn't quite catch it.
The moment he shut the door behind him, I've never felt more alone, which was new to me. I've been so alone for so long that I had grown used to it. But now, it only felt like the walls were closing in on me and my demons were taunting me to disappear, to accept their offer and make it go away.