Dreaming

[Ian Hunt]

"I'm already long cracked up if you hadn't noticed," I reply quietly, "There are too many things wrong with me mentally. And I do things I regret on a regular basis."

[Madeline Speare]

This keeps up he won't be around much longer.
I falter slightly, setting Alex down in the middle of the bed, wrapped tightly in his blanket so he wouldn't move.
"Just forget it then." I mutter, getting up and heading over to the window.

[Ian Hunt]

"I'm trying," I mumble.

[Madeline Speare]

I sit on the ledge of the window, rubbing my temples. It was too early for this.

[Ian Hunt]

"I'm going...get painkillers," Half the sentence becomes lost somehow as I mumble the explanation under my breath, managing to walk steadily out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

[Madeline Speare]

I don't reply, keeping my gaze on whatever was outside the window. I couldn't keep doing this.

[Ian Hunt]

I pour myself a glass of water, but knock back the pills without it and just stand there staring at it for a moment.
It's still sore, like an open wound. It all hurts far too much. I want to take it away, but I can't see any relief. Not now I've gotten rid of my razor blade.
I glance back down at the glass of water briefly, then back up the stairs. There's no way I could get away with it.
Anger boils up inside me, stinging at the edges of the still bleeding wound that he dream has left and I throw the glass as hard as I can against the wall. It smashes, satisfyingly, splashing the kitchen and myself with water.
I want to smash something else, but there's nothing near enough to damage. Besides myself.
My hands won't stop shaking, they still won't and it's frustrating more. So much that as I pick up a shard of broken glass my grip fails and I drop it again. I sink to the floor, giving myself more stability, as I pick it up again. It shreds my palm on contact, and my wrist is easy enough for it.

[Madeline Speare]

I tanagle a hand in my hair, wanting nothing more then to pull my hair out.
I sigh, walking out of the bedroom, grabbing my pill bottle of the nightstand before I head out, so not to wake Alex and into the one down the hall. The only other empty room in the house.
I open another window, leaning over the side of it, the bottle of anti-depressants wrapped tightly in my hand.
Something inside me snaps as I drop the bottle, punching the wall instead. It was a weak punch, and my knuckles spilt open.
I bite my lip, refraining from swearing.
I was reaching a breaking point. I get up on the ledge of the window, just standing there.
I needed to get on the roof. I needed to clear my head.

[Ian Hunt]

I close my eyes, grimacing a little in sick satisfaction, leaning my head back against the work top.
I try and control my breathing, I want to calm down. But I can't. Not yet.
I drag the jagged shard across my other wrist which flares with pain. The cuts are shallow but they ooze blood steadily, staining the glass.
It's not enough.
I raise the glass, turning it in front of my eyes. To the throat...that'd be enough. There'd be no hope if I did that. And there'd be no more dreams. Ever again. I move the shard right next to my jugular, nicking the skin without realising so a shallow stream of blood flows down my throat and chest.
I don't have the nerve. I drop it again. It clatters against the tiles.

[Madeline Speare]

I want to do nothing more then to scream. Right there, as loud as possible. To keep screaming until my lungs gave out.
I clench my fists to the point where my nails puncture the skin.
My eyes travel downwards, the fall looked so inviting. One move and it be over.
I sigh, shaking my head, removing the morbid thought from my head.
I turn around on the ledge, hauling myself up on the roof.
My bottoms of my feet, get cut a bit as I walk across the tile. There was a slight breeze, as I sat down, pulling my legs up to my chest.

[Ian Hunt]

Detatch yourself.
I close my eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath.
Detatch yourself and take a step back then assess the situation rationally until you're calm again. Why are you cutting?
I don't-...
Think about it.
Because I had a nightmare.
That's pathetic.
"I know," I breathe out again, closing my eyes tightly, "Be rational," I murmur to myself.
I manage to calm myself down for a moment, before the anger flares again and I need to find an outlet before I explode.
"Fuck rationality," I mutter irritably, hacking shallowly all the way up my arm, gritting my teeth against the pain.

[Madeline Speare]

I prop myself up on my elbows, trying to calm down, trying to get my thoughts in orfer. I sigh heavily, taking a loose tile from the roof, throwing it off, hearing a small thud as it hits the tree near the house.
"I miss Quiditich," I mumble softly.

[Ian Hunt]

Blood is flowing freely down my arms and I have a sudden stab of remorse, but it quickly goes away again.
"Fuck rationality," I repeat through clenched teeth, starting to dissect my other arm, "Fuck morals. Fuck promises. Fuck sin. Fuck failing suicide. Fuck repression and fucking nightmares and fucking depression."
This makes me feel a little better, but I run out of flesh before I run out of things to add fuck in front of.

[Madeline Speare]

Laying there isn't helping me. In fact it makes me feel pathetic. Worthless. Like a child. "Fuck." I mutter, then sigh through my nose, taking a deep breathe, trying to calm myself down.
Fuck that.
I start screaming, not out of fear or pain. Just out of anger, frustration.
I was so fucking sick of having to look after everyone. Ian, Charlie, Rose, Nathan, Yumi.
I was suffering as well. People were just too caught up their own damn problems to give a fuck about me.

[Ian Hunt]

I hear the screaming, and it interrupts my search for unbroken skin.
It's Maddie, and it's going to wake Alex up and I should care. I really should.
But...I don't.
I'm too scared and tired and wrapped up in myself to care.
I need to get out of here. I clench my bloody hand around the counter, hauling myself to my feet and standing unsteadily for a moment.

[Madeline Speare]

I press my hands to my forehead, breathing heavily, my entire body shaking. It takes me a moment to regain composure. Rising shakily to my feet, I climb back inside, hearing Alex start to cry.
Instead of going to see to him, I ingore it, heading down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
Washing my face off, I just stare at myself in the mirror.
I was pathetic.
Perry's voice keeps replaying in my head, Flithly blood traitor.
My fists are clenched agained, and without realizing it, I pull my fist back, slamming it into the mirror, bits of glass flying everywhere, pieces of it cut my face but I don't move.
Breathing hard, I keep glaring at the broken mirror, Alex's cry's getting louder.

[Ian Hunt]

Alex is crying, glass is smashing, but I cannot bring myself to care.
I'm dripping blood through the kitchen, down the hall, yanking a jacket off a hook and shrugging it on. The material sticks to my bleeding arms. I don't care about that either. I need out, in any sense of the word.

[Madeline Speare]

I can feel angry tears start to form in my eyes, as I yank open the medicine cabinet, opening a bottle of aspirin and popping out more then I probably need. Knocking back at least four of them, I sigh heavily, rubbing my temples trying to block out the cry.
I sink to my knees, glass crunching underneath me.
One jagged piece catches my eyes, and I pick it up. My sleeve is pushed up slightly, and I can see my Dark Mark etched into my skin.
I bite my bottom lip hard, causing it to bleed.
What was so tempting about this? I hold the piece of glass in my right hand, looking at it as if it was something special.
It was my escape.
I'm suddenly filled with anger and resentment. At everyone. At everyone who didn't deserve it. Charlie, for not being there when I needed him. My father, faking his death and leaving me on my own. Remus, for making me push myself harder in school even though I wanted nothing more then to be home. Yumi, for making me have someone else to look after. Gideon, for dying when I needed him to pull me back together. My mother, for dying and making me move in with her scum of a family. And Ian.
My grip tightens on the glass as I drag it across my skin.
I bite my lip harder as it slices my skin.
It gave me some relief. I did it again.

[Ian Hunt]

I slam the door unnecessarily hard on my way out.

[Madeline Speare]

I drop the glass, looking horrifically down at my arms.
Cuts zigzagged along my skin, blood rolling down my arms, and onto the floor. My mark was clearly visible against the blood.
I sob slightly, leaning forward. Angry tears burned in my eyes as Alex's cry dies down in a fit of coughing.
What have you done Madeline? What have you done?
I was so sick of everything, and my eyes were getting heavy. I tried to reassure myself it was the lack of sleep but I knew it wasn't. I haul myself up, and stumble into the shower, sinking to the floor, my arms still bleeding. I manage to turn on the water, leaning my head against the wall. The water poured down onto me, and my hair clung to my face. I lean my head back, watching my blood go down the drain.
Are you trying to drown yourself?
That's the plan. I've had enough.
I laugh hollowly at the words slashed into my arm.
'Broken'

[Ian Hunt]

I hesitate on the doorstep. It's cold outside and it's 3am and I'm covered in blood...and I have no idea what the plan of going out was. Just to get out of the house? Well, I've done that.
And I don't feel any better.
I sigh heavily, pushing the door back open and heading back inside, throwing my jacket on the floor of the hall and making my way to the kitchen. I turn on the cold tap; wiping as much of the blood as I can away. I've been reasonably careful this time and most of them are shallow and have already nearly stopped. The odd deep one doesn't bother me as much as it should.
Alex has stopped crying upstairs, so Maddie must have seen to him.
The realisation is indifferent and I decide with a mild dose of self disgust that I probably wouldn't care either way. The self disgust evaporates quickly anyway, and then I'm left with nothing again.
I make my way quietly up the stairs, deciding the bathroom is a better place to clean out the cuts rather than the kitchen. I know I've got to remember to clean up the kitchen anyway.
I feel dead.
The shower's running in the bathroom, so Maddie must be in there. It doesn't really matter, so I push the door open anyway.
I pause a moment when I see blood smeared across the floor and the mirror in pieces and my eyes move with painstaking slowness to the actual shower.
I'm very glad that I'm still numbed because otherwise I doubt I'd be able to accept this without doing or saying anything otherwise.

[Madeline Speare]

My eyes flicker open, but I can tell I'm not all there. I had been drifting in and out for however long now. I was shivering, my clothes soaked with blood and the water still running.
White dots are dancing in front of my eyes and I shut them tightly, hearing the door open. I know who it is.
I didn't care.
I break into a fit of coughing, leaning my head back. I was freezing. I look up at him, not saying anything.
It suddenly clicks Alex has stopped crying. All I can remember is a fit of coughing.
Panic rises in my chest as that mothering instinct kicks in, mixed alongside with my Healer knowledge.
"..Baby.." I whisper hoarsely.

[Ian Hunt]

"B-baby," I repeat with undisguised incredulity, as if the word doesn't connect in my head. Which it doesn't.
My voice is hoarse again, shaking slightly. Not as bad as it was upon waking up, but still not normal.
I stay frozen in the doorway, and then it clicks. "Baby, fucking baby!"
Immediately I turn to go to Alex, then stop again in the doorway as this situation forces itself back to priority in my head.
I don't want to walk closer, I don't want to even though I know I should. I'm still waiting for something to kick in, but nothing does. Nothing I expect at least; just an irrational flare of anger. I want to be back in the kitchen with my shard of glass because I don't give a fuck and I really should because this is my family in a fucked up place and I can't care even if I want to.
Do something! The voice is sharp, so sharp it's almost painful and I oblige immediately without thinking. I nearly slip on the blood but I keep my balance, turning off the shower faucet and crouching next to her.
Something else... The voice prompts, still sharp and formidable, but with a patronising undertone.
My body listens even if my mind isn't, and I ease her up gently in my arms. I've never carried her like this before and it's almost worrying that she's so light when no one should be so light. I feel like I'm holding her together, keeping her all in one piece, and failing at it.
You're failing again. Maddie suicide attempts when you should be looking after her...well that's two now Ian.
I ignore this, not sure if I'm even capable of paying attention to it anyway, and carry her out of the bathroom, not looking at her; the blood seeping through my shirt is enough to know that she's there and exactly what state she's in.
I can hardly remember my reasoning in taking her with me to go and see to Alex, except that I don't want to leave her on her own and that I don't think I can even see to him on my own. It's something along those lines.

[Madeline Speare]

I nearly cry out in pain as he moves me, but it feels like my voice is stuck in my throat.
I close my eyes, trying to stop my head from pounding.
Alex.

[Ian Hunt]

I set her down very gently on the bed again, feeling only ever so slightly better than both of the problems I am now dealing with are in the same room and I am in control.
I'm in control.
No, you're petty and immature. Shut up and let me think.
I can help you here. Let me help you...them.
Go away Christopher.
You need me now. Let me help you now.
I don't have the will to argue with myself anymore.
The pain is nearly blinding, a sudden stab of a headache that doesn't shift and I feel like my skulls imploded. I'm glad that I doubt I'll remember letting one consciousness slip back into my head and the other one take control. I highly doubt I'll want to.
I'm not sure if this is just a metaphor I've imagined into being to help me cope with this, or if it's genuinely happening. But I feel different, like I'm seeing things a lot clearer.
Ian gradually sinks into a state of near non-being and stays silent in the back of my head, it doesn't worry me.
Baby.
I jolt back into movement after standing painfully still for too long, lurching half heartedly into the gesture of picking up Alex. I keep sight of Maddie in the corner of my eye for the time that I know I'll actually have to do something or she will die.

[Madeline Speare]

It's getting harder to breathe, but I manage to pick myself up slightly, rolling onto my side, the words 'Broken' etched onto my skin.
I don't give my arm a second glance as I look down at Alex.
"B-Baby.." I whisper softly, moving onto my knees.
It was hard to move. It was never this hard before.
You never tried to kill yourself before.
I can feel angry tears start to burn in my eyes, as I look down at Alex. He looked smaller then when he was born.
"..-b-baby.." I whisper again, my voice cracking slightly.

[Ian Hunt]

"No," My voice is sharper and harsher than I mean it to be because I can't keep the anger inside anymore. It's finding any exit it can, my voice, the touch with which I push her back down onto the bed. The rebuke of keeping the emotion locked away too long.
"Stay still," I think the last time I've used authority in my voice has to have been years ago, with Logan and Rowan and Will and the others and it sounds unnatural to me now, but it's a familiar rush and a tone that I wouldn't ignore.
But even with this I'm still unsure of what I'm supposed to do now and what takes priority. She needs the hospital and I don't know what Alex needs. I wish I did.

[Madeline Speare]

His hand is colder then I remember as he touches me. I wince resting my arm across my chest, the blood flow has lessened slightly.
I lean my head back, breathing hard, I can feel my hair falling out of it's ponytail, I don't even remember putting my hair up.
Then again, the last few hours have been blurry.
My heart races, how long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
It's felt like ever.
I tlit my head to the side, closing my eyes.
I reopen them, knowing I couldn't fall asleep.
"..Mungo's.." I whisper softly, breathlessly."He needs..Mungo's.."

[Ian Hunt]

"How am I supposed to get the both of you to fucking Mungo's?" I snap. I can't get rid of the tone, I can't get rid of this.
You need to calm down.
I don't want to calm down.
"Okay, Mungo's," I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation.
I know I shouldn't apparate with Alex but I see no other option and it's going to be hard to apparate with the both of them especially when I'm in less than good health myself at the moment. But again, I see no other option.
I brace myself slightly, then haul her up again, this time not being so careful as I hoist her up over one shoulder. I use the other arm precariously to pick Alex in the other arm.

[Madeline Speare]

I close my eyes tightly as he yells, as if shutting my eyes will shut the rest of the world out.
"I'm fine," I whisper softly, as I feel him start to move me. "..Can stand.." I whisper.
"Don't worry..about me..baby.."