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betweenthings2 · 11 days ago

Note

can you do a missing persons flier and a toxicology report

Absolutely I can!! Thank you for the ask and the prompt list is here if anyone else wants to see it =)

It's a good photo. Recent, but not so recent that Matty looks ill, and clearly taken by someone who’s job it was to take photos, but not staged or set, just a flattering angle and good lighting. It's just Matty, dark curls fluffy and air-dried, shirt unbuttoned enough to show the top of his chest tattoo, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, a fond expression on his face. George remembers this photo--they were in the middle of an interview, taking more to each other than the interviewer. George remembers being happy and he knows there's a photo of him from that interview, too, looking similarly fond. It's a good photo, a photo George liked. It's a shame he'll never be able to look at it without feeling nauseous again.

George offered other photos, but the police had said this one was best and now here it is on a missing persons flier, one that says 'Matthew' instead of 'Matty' and lists exactly what Matty had been wearing the last time George had seen him. George hates that idea, the last time he saw Matty. Well, he's seen Matty since then, just once and not for long, laying in a hospital bed, intubated and sedated. His clothes, the same clothes that were listed on the missing persons flier that George can't stop staring at, are folded into a clear, plastic bag labeled 'PATIENT EFFECTS,' and they're ruined, dirtied and torn. George should have just thrown them away before the doctors asked him to leave. He's brought Matty clean clothes, clean, comfortable clothes to wear when he gets discharged and he's going to make sure Matty is ok, that he has what he needs.

George lets out a shaky breath and looks up, around the waiting room, the empty waiting room, then back down to the crumpled missing persons flier in his hands, to the photo of Matty he used to love, the photo that's so Matty, so George's Matty. The person in this photo isn't the person George had seen laying in that hospital bed, lifeless. Matty is so full of life, always, and there he was, reduced to the hiss of the ventilator, the steady beep of the heart monitor.

The doctors said they’re taking Matty off the ventilator when they made George leave, but that they won’t know how he is until he wakes up. George just wished they’d tell him something, anything. They wouldn’t even share the results of the toxicology report he knows they have. Matty overdosed, that much is obvious, that much the doctors would tell George, but on what and how seriously is anyone’s guess. Well, George has a guess, a good guess, because he knows Matty, but he has no confirmation of whether he’s right or not.

It's been too long, George thinks. Does it really take this long to extubate a patient? Maybe Matty isn't breathing on his own like they thought he would. Maybe they're back there doing CPR or something. Maybe Matty just isn't waking up. Maybe the doctors and nurses are back there disconnecting machines and pulling the sheet over his body. Maybe the doctors are deciding who pulls the short straw and has to tell George that Matty is gone.

George doesn't know what he'd do it that were the case. It's been two and a half weeks since he last saw Matty. Two weeks of pacing and not sleeping and searching through London's worst smack houses and slums and not remembering the last thing he said to the person he loves before Matty turned up in a hospital. What if that's all George gets? What if he never remembers and that's all he gets? What if it’s all just empty and hollow and quiet and cold and Matty is gone? George can’t stop wondering what if.

George isn’t sure how long he sits there, staring at Matty’s missing person flier, before a doctor appears, calling Matty's name. George springs to his feet, crumpling the flier in his hand as he goes, even more anxious than he had been. What does he do if Matty isn't ok? He doesn't even know what's happened to Matty.

"Is he ok?" George asks, a little bit hesitant. "Matty?"

The gives a slight nod. "He's off the ventilator and breathing on his own, which is a step in the right direction."

"But?"

"He's not awake yet," the doctor admits. When George's face falls further she's quick to add, "People wake up from anesthesia at different rates. Everything is out of his system, his vitals are good and he got care quickly. We'll know more when he wakes up, of course, but right now I'm pretty hopeful."

"Pretty hopeful?" George echoes. That sounds not great he thinks. "That doesn't sound great."

"Overdoses can be tricky," the doctor admits, "but Matty is really lucky."

George can't stop himself from saying, "This doesn't seem lucky."

"I know," she says sympathetically. "But someone did what you're supposed to do when someone overdoses. Someone called got him help. Those are lucky things."

"What did he take? Can I see the toxicology report?"

The doctor sighs. "I can tell you it was primarily a mixture of heroin and alcohol, but we also found traces of marijuana and cocaine. I can't give you the toxicology report due to medical privacy laws without Matty's consent, but if he gives it when I wakes up, I can show you the report.

George opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but he realizes he doesn’t have another formulated question. He's scared and he's worried about Matty and he has a lot of questions, but he doesn't have anything clear to ask.

"You should sit with him," the doctor says. "He'll should wake up soon and he'll probably scared and confused when he does. He should see a familiar face."

George nods. "Yeah," he agrees. "I, ok."

The doctor offers a kind, sad little smile and she says, "I'll walk you to his room."

George gives a mute nod and follows the doctor down the hallways to Matty's room. She stops outside a room, the same room George had been unceremoniously kicked out of earlier. He can see Matty through the glass door, just laying there, and it makes George feel like he's been punched in the gut.

"There's a call button on the bed if he needs anything and I'll be back to check in on him in a bit, alright?"

George gives another nod and watches the doctor walk away before turning and letting himself into the room to sit in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed and resume his vigil. Matty doesn't stir and George keeps waiting, folding, unfolding, and refolding the missing persons flier over and over to keep his hands busy. Matty will wake up, he tells himself. Matty will wake up and be fine. He has to.

#my fic #matty healy #george daniel #matty x george

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betweenthings2 · 15 days ago

Note

Okay since you mentioned the other day about the very sad alternate universe where Matty never left William and then with the prompt just now, like could we get the boys reaction to Matty eventually coming out to the studio after being MIA with his broken wrist and just being scared af? & Ross and Adam finally know that Mattys in an abusive relationship, they they tell Matty to come stay with them if they won’t go back to George but mattys just got no fucking self worth anymore and doesn’t see a way out so he refuses :( we need our sad girl fic writer to break our hearts

Ask and you shall receive, Anon =) The Big Light is the gift that keeps on giving and this is basically a whole entire fic, so I hope you enjoy.

When Matty gets discharged from the hospital the morning after he has surgery on his wrist, he goes back to William's. He doesn't get much of a choice in the matter--William just shepherds him into the passenger seat and drives without asking Matty what he wants. Matty swallows down his protests, which is fairly easy given how tired he is and the prescription painkillers William wouldn't let him refuse.

After that, Matty spends the first half of the week hiding. He ignores the texts and calls and social media messages from Adam, Ross, and George and keeps it up when the messages start coming from his family. He’s sure they all think he’s on some kind of bender. That’s fine, he thinks, that’s probably better than the alternative. Then he scolds himself for thinking that way because nothing is wrong with this. Sure, William did objectively break Matty’s arm and his ribs, but that was Matty’s own fault. He was being obnoxious and ungrateful and he deserved it. William didn’t do anything wrong, but Matty still hides for the first half of the week and takes his painkillers as directed.

By Wednesday, Matty begins to find it in himself to go do the things he needs to do and face his friends. He tells this to William when they sit down for dinner, fully prepared for a cutting comment or a slap or something, but William just nods and agrees. Matty tries not to look too shocked, but he must fail because William makes a comment about how he's learned his lesson now. Matty just nods and agrees. He eats very little at dinner which makes William seem oddly proud of him. When they go to bed, William leaves Matty alone, lets him just sleep.

In the morning, Matty has to dig out the concealer William left in the bathroom last time Matty had an obvious bruise. It's not a bruise he needs to hide this time, but how tired and unwell he looks. This isn't a lie, he tells himself. This is private, not for his friends to know. This is his relationship and he doesn't need anyone else sticking their nose in. He pushes the fact that the last time he kept a secret from his friends he ended up spending seven weeks in rehab. This is different. This isn't that.

Matty is almost leaving before William catches him. He doesn't say much, just offers some semblance of affection, but it's cold and it ends up hurting, ends up being a squeeze to Matty's injured ribs, a reminder to behave himself. He promises that he'll come straight back when they're done for the day and tries to wince when it hurts, then goes, walking down the block, past the little café where there's sometimes a woman who reminds him of his Nana, and to a busier road to hail a cab. He's not sure he has it in him to take the Tube like he usually does. Plus, he doesn't need photos of himself looking like he does to surface on the internet the way they so often do when he takes the tube.

The cab stops in front of the studio sooner than Matty expects and he finds himself having trouble forcing himself out of the cab to go inside. Then the driver catches his eye in the rearview mirror and Matty recognizes that expression. It's the kind of expression that comes before pain and he hurries to scramble out of the backseat, not minding the way the hurried movement sends pain through his body. That's a small price to pay to get away from something worse.

Matty watches as the cab drives away before turning to go inside. The thing is, though, he's having a hard time making himself move. He knows how to looks and he looks small and scared and hurt. He is kind of small and scared and hurt right now but he doesn't need everyone knowing that. He knows George knows because George put things together ages ago when he asked about it, but Ross and Adam, they don't need to know. This is Matty's private business. This is exactly what Matty deserves for all his mistakes, for every time he's run his mouth, for every time he said the wrong thing, every time he lied, every time he hurt someone he cares about. This is education, this is how Matty gets better, how he fixes himself, how he learns how to behave. Ross and Adam, though, they won't understand that. George won't, either, but Matty hopes that he'll leave it alone. George should know well enough to leave it alone. He should know Matty well enough to leave it alone.

Matty isn't sure how long he stands there before he finds it in himself to go inside. He keeps his splint hidden under his sweatshirt and he's covered up how tired he looks well enough that no one really gives him a second look until he pushes open the door to their studio space. He's earlier than he usually is so the space is empty, but he needed to get out. He regrets that fairly quickly when he goes to grab a guitar to have something to do only to realize that he can't play anything, not with the splint on his wrist. The makes tears well up in his eyes and he lets himself fall to the floor, coming to sit with his back pressed against the wall.

Matty cries. He cries for the position he's put himself in, for the way his ribs and wrist hurt, for the way crying makes his ribs hurt worse, for the way he doesn't know what to tell his friends, for the way he has to come up with a lie. He cries for the way he knows, deep down, that the way William treats him is wrong, for the way he can't do anything about it, for how he deserves it, for how this is as good as it gets. It is good sometimes, most of the time, though, he has to remind himself. William is generous and he loves Matty. He opened his home and his life to Matty, took care of Matty, made sure Matty was somewhere safe and clean and comfortable. He gives Matty things, takes him out, likes to see Matty get dressed up and pretty. He delights in the smooth curves and hard lines of Matty's body, in Matty's soft, pale skin, in the shadow of Matty's ribs and hipbones under his skin. William loves him.

None of that stops Matty's crying. In fact, it just makes him cry a little bit harder. How does he reconcile what seems like genuine care and love with the stabbing pain in his ribs every time he tries to take a breath? And what is he supposed to tell his friends, the people he loves most? What is he supposed to tell George? George will ask and George already suspects something is going on. He can't lie to George, he's never been able to lie to George, but if he tells the truth, everyone will get the wrong idea. They'll tell Matty he deserves better, but he doesn't. He deserves the hurt and the pain and the lessons. He needed to be put in his place. He understands that now.

When Matty finally stops crying it's not because he's done crying, but because he's just out of tears. He doesn't have any crying left in him and he just sits there, waiting for someone to come find him.

Time passes and passes and passes and Matty has no idea how long he sits there before the door opens. Matty can't help but hope it's not George, but it turns out to be Ross. He has his headphones on and he's looking at his phone so he doesn't notice Matty right away, but when he does, his face immediately lights up, then falls just as quickly once he's gotten a good look at Matty. Ross has seen Matty cry enough that he doesn’t have to wonder, enough that he just knows Matty has been crying.

"Hey, what happened?" he asks, taking off his headphones and setting his things aside.

"'s fine," Matty tries.

Ross sits on the floor in front of Matty, the says, "You've been crying."

Matty huffs. "You know me," he says, trying for levity, "I cry at everything."

"Matty," Ross murmurs. "You disappeared for days. You didn't answer texts or calls. Hann was about to file a missing persons report."

Matty frowns. "Missing persons report?"

Ross nods. "George thought you were in hospital. I, uh, I thought you were on a bender, but we looked for you, everywhere we found you before, but," he ends his sentence with a shrug. "Hann said if you didn't turn up by the end of the week he was filing a report."

Matty drops his gaze. He can't keep looking at Ross, can't keep seeing the hurt he's caused.

"Where were you?"

"Nowhere," Matty says quickly. "I mean, I was fine, I am fine, I-"

"Matty," Ross interrupts, gentle. "Don't-"

The door swings open again, cutting off the end of Ross's sentence and revealing Adam and George. They both light up when they see Matty, and they both say something about how worried they were and where has he been and is he ok at the same time.

"'m fine," Matty tries again.

There's a moment of silent communication, then George and Adam sit on the floor in front of Matty, too. He can't help feeling hemmed in, like he might not be able to get away if he needs to. Then he kicks himself for thinking that because these are his friends, people who love him, people who would never hurt him. He doesn't let himself think about the fact that William loves him, too, but William hurts him.

"What happened?" George asks. He's using the tone he always uses when Matty falls apart and he needs to be comforting, quiet and low and soft, like he's speaking to a scared or wounded animal.

Matty tugs at the cuff of his sweatshirt, making sure his splint his hidden by his sleeve, then says, "Nothing. I'm fine."

"I thought you were dead, Matthew," Adam says. "Dead!"

"I'm fine," Matty repeats. "I was fine."

"You don't look fine," Adam responds. He just sounds sad.

Matty doesn't have a good response. He's not so sure he feels fine, but what is he supposed to say? He's not so sure, so he just doesn't say anything.

George studies Matty for a moment, takes in his sweatshirt in the warm weather, then, in that same voice, asks, "Matty, are you using again?"

That's not the question Matty expected and it takes him a little off guard. "I, George, I, no. No."

"Don't lie to me," George says, a little bit firmer. "We can sort it out if you are. No one is angry, just, don't lie to me about it."

"I'm not lying," Matty insists. He understands why George would think that, but he kind of hates it.

"I'm not angry," George repeats. "I-"

"I'm not using again," Matty says. The prescription painkillers don't count, he thinks, not when he's taking them as directed.

"Matty," Adam starts, "you don't have to be ashamed. The majority-"

"I'm not fucking using again!" Matty snaps, scrambling to his feet. The movement sends pain shooting through his ribs and he can't help the yelp he lets out.

"Are you hurt?" George asks, getting to his feet, too. There's concern in his expression. There's love in his expression.

"I'm fine," Matty says yet again.

George reaches out to touch Matty's shoulder and he flinches hard, hitting his shoulder against the wall and sending pain through his ribs again.

"Sweetheart," George starts.

"Don't! Just stop it! Stop talking to me like I'm a fucking child!"

George looks a little bit shocked by Matty's outburst and he steps back, giving Matty an escape path and he takes it, pushing his way out, out of the room, out of the building. He's not sure where to go after that, though, so he circles around the back of the building, where he and George always used to share cigarette breaks, and lights a cigarette. His doctor told him he shouldn't smoke until his ribs heal, but he thinks he deserves a pass. He doesn't want to go home to his quiet, empty house and he doesn't want to go back to William's house that's full of fear and hurt and he's ruining his friendships and he deserves a cigarette because, god, there is nothing else good in his life right now. He deserves this, he knows, he deserves everything he's gotten and eventually he'll learn his lesson, but he hasn't quite gotten there yet.

Matty is about halfway through his cigarette when Adam comes around the corner. Matty can only imagine the conversation after he left, his friends going back and forth until they decided to send Adam to talk to him.

"You alright?" Adam asks, stopping at what can only be described as a respectful distance away.

Matty nods and exhales smoke. "I'm fine, Hann, really."

"Where'd you disappear to?" Matty takes another drag and doesn't answer.

"Are you using again?" Adam tries, careful.

"No," is Matty's answer. "Really. I just, erm, well, you know how I get sometimes. I'm fine now, though, really."

Adam steps a little bit closer to try saying, "George thinks you've got a partner who isn't very nice to you."

Matty pauses, half wishing George would just leave him alone.

"Matty?"

"He's good to me," Matty responds, trying to ignore the slight pain in his ribs that flares up as he speaks. "He loves me."

Adam frowns. "Do you love him?"

That gives Matty another pause. He's not so sure how to answer that. Sometimes, when William's hands are gentle and his voice is kind, when he calls Matty pretty or takes the time to consider what Matty might think or what, Matty thinks that maybe he could love William, but most of the time, he's little more than afraid of William.

"If you're in a bad spot, we can help," Adam offers. "You don't have to stay with someone who treats you poorly. You don’t deserve to be treated poorly.”

“I’m ok,” Matty insists. “We’re ok. We’re good, really.”

Adam seems to consider for a moment, then nods and says, “Ok. You’d say something if you weren’t, right?”

Matty nods, too, and takes a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. There’s a stab of pain in his ribs as in inhales, but he does his best to ignore it. Adam clocks it, but he doesn’t say anything, just waits for Matty to exhale then leads him back inside.

Ross meets Matty’s gaze when he comes back, a silent question of if he’s ok, if he needs anything. Matty hopes his expression in response is enough of a reassurance. George, on the other hand, doesn’t meet Matty’s eye, just glances toward him, then away. He should apologize, Matty thinks. He should tell George that he’s sorry for snapping, sorry for yelling, because he is. He should tell George he didn’t mean it, that he’s trying so hard, that he's trying his best, even though his best isn't very good. He should tell George he's sorry and get to his knees and ask for forgiveness.

He doesn't. He just drops his gaze and sits on the couch, quiet and submissive, and waits to be told what to do. There's a moment of confused quiet, then everyone moves like they have something to do. Matty knows they don't, there's not really much left to do at all, but he appreciates the effort and everything is fine. The problem is that things actually need doing and Adam tries to hand Matty a guitar and he has to explain why he can't take it.

"I can't," he says, not moving.

"You can't?" Adam echoes, still holding Matty's guitar.

"I can't," Matty says again.

It's Ross's turn to echo, "You can't?"

Matty nods.

Finally, it's George's turn with, "Matty-"

"I broke my wrist. And also maybe my ribs," Matty mumbles. "I can't."

"What?" George asks.

Reluctantly, Matty pulls up the sleeve of his sweatshirt to show the splint, the stitches, his bruised skin. It looks awful and he wishes he could say it's worse than it is, but it's just bad.

"Fuck, Matty, what happened?" Ross asks.

"I tripped." It's the same answer Matty gave the ER staff, the same answer he gave all the nurses who told him over and over that they can help him get somewhere safe, the same answer gave the doctor who told him that this isn't the kind of injury that comes from tripping and falling wrong, that this is the kind of injury that comes from the hand of another.

"You tripped?" George sounds incredulous.

Matty nods.

There's another moment of silent communication, then George sits next to Matty, careful to give him a bit of space, and says, "Don't do this again, Matthew. I'm here for you and I will help you sort out whatever needs sorting out, but don't lie to me. We can't do that again."

"I'm not," Matty tries, pulling his sleeve back over his splint. "I told you, I'm not doing that anymore."

"I don't mean the drugs," George responds. "I mean whatever else is going on, whatever else you're not telling me."

"I told you, I tripped," Matty insists.

"And I know that's not-"

"Stop it," Matty interrupts. He tries to sound angry or firm or like he's drawing a line and there's no room for crossing it, but he just sounds like he's begging, like he's sad.

"Matty, that bloke you were seeing," George starts, "did he-"

"I said stop it," Matty repeats, desperate. There's probably no point trying to hide it anymore because George has basically just said it, but protesting and lying is all he has at this point.

"If he did this to you-"

"Shut up, George!" Matty finally yells. He feels a little bit like he's about to cry. "I don't need a fucking investigation into my life!"

"He's hurting you," George tries. He sounds a little bit desperate, too.

"No, he's not," Matty tries. "He's not hurting me, I'm fine."

"You told me!" George finally bursts out. "I asked you if he was hitting you and you basically admitted it!"

Matty remembers that conversation, so he does the only thing he can think and snaps, "Fuck off, George!"

George looks genuinely surprised, but he's kind and gentle when he says, "Why don't you come stay with me for a bit, just 'til you feel better? That way you won't be alone for a bit."

Matty isn't stupid. He knows what the implication in George's suggestion is, it's that he breaks things off with William and goes to stay with George like he needs a protector or caretaker, like he can't take care of himself, but he's not about to do that. He can take care of himself and he owes William for everything, so he says, "No! I don't need your fucking protection."

"Matty-"

"I said fuck off, George."

George sighs. "I'm here when you decide you want help," he says before getting up and walking away.

Adam gives Matty a look, then follows George, leaving Ross to take the spot George left open on the couch. There's quiet for a moment, then Ross speaks.

"Is that true?" he asks.

"What?"

"What George said. Is someone hurting you?"

Matty tries shaking his head, but it's a weak protest.

"What's his name?" Ross tries.

Matty doesn't answer.

"You don't have to go back to him," Ross says. "You can't. I'm not letting you go back to someone who hurts you."

"I'm fine, Ross. I tripped, that's all. George is just upset with me or something. I dunno."

"He's scared," Ross offers. "You should go stay with him, just for a bit."

"Why? Because I can't take care of myself? Because I need a protector? Because you all don't think I can make my own decisions?"

"No," Ross starts. "I think you should go stay with George because you look worse than you did before you went to rehab and he loves you."

"I know," Matty mumbles. "But no."

"Then come stay with me. Or Hann. Let us help you out of this."

"No. I don't need to."

"He broke your arm. What's he gonna do next time?" Ross asks. "Just come stay with me for a bit."

"I'm fine. He won't hurt me."

"He already did!"

Matty looks away, then very quietly, admits, "He didn't do anything to me that I didn't deserve."

Ross looks appalled. "You think you deserved this?"

"I'm annoying," Matty mumbles. "I talk too much and I never finish things and I, I'm messy and I can never make up my mind about things and I think I'm smarter than I am and I'm a junkie and-"

"You're not annoying," Ross interrupts.

"You've never wished I'd shut up, give you five minutes of peace and quiet? That I'd do one thing at a time or clean up after myself better? You never wished I wasn't a junkie?"

"No!"

"You've never wished I was better?"

"Better?" Ross echoes, incredulous.

Matty nods. "A better person. A better friend, a better bandmate, just better."

"I don't even know how to tell you how ridiculous that is," Ross says. "You don't, you're not, I mean, better? Really?"

"I'm not a good person, Ross. You must know that."

George's voice comes from behind Matty, saying, "You're the best person I know, Matty. The best person I'll ever know."

"I'm not," Matty insists, not turning. "I'm just not. I don't deserve you, George. I am getting exactly what I deserve."

"You don't deserve this," George tries.

Matty scoffs and it sends pain through his ribs, but he ignores it to say, "You just accused me of being a liar, like, five times in one conversation. You don't think I'm a good person."

"I didn't mean that," George says quickly.

Matty scoffs again and keeps his gaze fixed on his knees, giving no real response, so George and Adam come around in front of Matty and Ross, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. George looks guilty.

"I didn't mean it like that," George repeats. "You have to know that."

"What did you mean, then?" Matty asks, looking up. "That I'm whatever is convenient for you?"

"Do you wanna fight?" George asks. "I'll fight if that's what you want, but Matty, please, just let us help. Let us get you out of this."

"I don't need help and I don't need out."

"Then look me in the eye and tell me he didn't do this to you," George says. "Tell me you're not afraid of him. Tell me you're looking forward to seeing him. Tell me he didn't do this to you and I'll leave it alone."

Matty drops his gaze back to his knees, quiet.

It's Adam who says, again, "Let us help."

Matty sniffles. George is right--he is afraid of William and he doesn't want to go back to William's. He doesn't want to see William or eat dinner together or share a bed or wake up together or anything. What else is he supposed to do, though? He can't go back to George because he's not good enough for George. He is a mess and lesser and he doesn't deserve George.

"Hey," George murmurs, "look at me. Let-"

"You don't want me!" Matty bursts out. "You didn't want me! You said we had to reevaluate our relationship and you didn't want me and now you're upset that I'm with someone else! I was about to come home and you said you didn't want me and I get it, I wouldn't want me either, but you don't get to change your mind and be upset now."

George glances toward Ross, then Adam and asks, "Can we have a minute?"

They nod and move to give George and Matty some privacy, but Matty doesn't really follow where they go. He just notes how George doesn't move, like he thinks Matty needs the space, like he thinks Matty will flee if he gets too close.

"I didn't mean that I didn't want you," George starts. "I wanted to stop with the hiding and the secrets and the dancing around each other. I wanted to do it right."

"Do it right?" Matty echoes.

George nods. "I wanted to be a couple, properly. I was gonna tell you when you got home, but you were so quiet and distant and seemed like you didn't want me around when you came home so I let it be and then you said you were seeing someone and I figured that was that, but it was never that I didn't want you. I did. I do."

All that does is make Matty feel worse. He didn't mean to upset or hurt George. He just thought George didn't want him, so he ran.

"I know I probably said it wrong and I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to push you away. I'm sorry. I, god, I adore you." George pauses, then continues, "You don't have to want anything from me or with me or whatever, but know that I have never not wanted you."

Matty sniffles, but he doesn't say anything.

"Let us help," George tries again. "Let us get you safe, ok?"

"I'm fine," Matty tries. "I don't need help."

"He's hurting you." "I deserve it."

George sighs and glances around the room, before looking back to Matty and asking, "Matty, do you trust me? Do you believe the things I tell you?"

Matty nods. He trusts George with anything, with everything. George could tell him the sky is green and that actually, north is south and Matty would nod and agree and change his world view. He trusts George. He believes George.

"Then believe me when I tell you that you don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be hurt. I get that you don't like yourself very much right now, but I'm begging you, believe me. You don't have to go back to him. You don't have to let him push you around. You can let Hann take you home. You can let Ross and me go get your stuff and tell him you're done. You don't have to see him ever again."

Matty will admit to himself that George's plan sounds good. Letting Hann take him home would be nice--he hasn't been home, not properly, in ages and he'd like to go home. He'd like it if Ross and George went to William's and got his things and told William he was done. He doesn't have much there that he wants, but he left the painkillers on the bathroom counter and he would kind of like those.

"Please?" George asks.

Matty shakes his head.

George sighs. "I'm not letting you leave to go back to someone who is abusing you."

"It's not abuse," Matty tries.

"It is. Matty, this is abuse, plain and simple, and I'm not letting you go back to that."

"It's not and you don't get to decide where I go and what I do," Matty tries. He wants to just agree. He wants to, but he can't because George doesn't get it. George is blinded by fifteen years of being friends, too many years of love to understand.

"This is going to kill you," George says, too serious. "He's going to push you around until he either kills your or you relapse and kill yourself. We're not losing you like this. I'm not letting you go back to something that will kill you."

"He wouldn't. I wouldn't. I'm clean."

George nods. "I know. And I am so, so proud of you for that, but I know you and I'm not trying to insult you, but I know how you think when you think you're cornered. I know you. You hurt yourself when you don't like yourself. I'm not letting you kill yourself."

Matty doesn't say anything. He doesn't have anything to say because George is right. He takes things out on himself, always has, always will.

"Please, Matty," George tries.

"I," a pause, "he loves me."

"Matty, sweetheart, this isn't love. This is abuse."

"Not if I deserve it," Matty mumbles. "It's not abuse if I deserve it."

"You don't deserve it."

"I do. I deserve it for the lying and the using and hurting you and all of it. I deserve some kind of punishment for that."

"You don't. You made some mistakes, yeah, but I forgive you. We all forgive you. You don't need to be punished or hurt for that. You don't."

"I do."

"You don't," George insists. "Let us help, please."

Matty sniffles. "How can you make it better? You can't make me hate myself less. You can't undo any of it. You can't fix it."

"We can get you safe. We can get you away from him," George offers.

"I don't wanna keep needing help," Matty admits. "I'm tired of needing help."

"I know," George agrees. "But we want to help. That counts for something, don't you think?"

Matty shrugs. He's mostly being stubborn now, because, yes, that does count for something. All he has is his position on this.

"Let Hann take you home," George tries. "Let Ross and me go get your stuff."

"I, I don't," a pause, "no. No."

George sighs again and moves to kneel in front of Matty. "What do we do here, Matty? You can't go back."

Matty doesn’t say anything. It's not that he wants to go back to William, really, he doesn't, but where else is he supposed to go? George's? George thinks he's incompetent and incapable and he talks to Matty like he's a wounded wild animal, liable to bite at any point. Ross's? Ross thinks Matty is an idiot, that he can't see things what they are. Adam's? Adam thinks Matty needs to be handled like unexploded ordinance, like he's about to come apart at any second. Every seems to think he needs a babysitter. Matty hates that, but maybe he does. Clearly he doesn't make good choices for himself.

"I mean that," George says. "And I get it if you're upset and you can be mad at me if you want, but you can't go back to someone who hurts you."

"He only hurts me when I deserve it," Matty mumbles, voice very small.

"Nobody ever deserves that," George tries. "Not you, not anyone."

Matty just shrugs. It's getting harder and harder for him to engage with this conversation, getting harder and harder for him to do anything beyond sit there and stare off into space until the afternoon. He's tired of this. He's tired of being tired.

"What do I say to convince you?" George asks. "How do I convince you that you are better off without him? Tell me what you need me to say and I'll say it, I will, I just don't know what else to say."

"I don't know," Matty admits.

George makes an aborted gesture, like he's going to run his fingers through Matty's hair or wipe away the tears that are about to fall, but then thinks better of it, and tries, "You are loved, Matty. You deserve love. Let me show you, please."

"I'm not worth it, George, I'm not," Matty mumbles.

"You are," George insists. "You are to me."

"I, I'm not good, G. I, he, I'm not."

"I don't care what he did to you. I don't care about the things you think make you bad or unworthy. Ross and Hann, the people who love you, they don't either, I promise. All you have to do is let me help you."

Matty siffles. "What if, what if it never gets better?"

"Oh, Matty, it will. I promise you, it will, but you have to let us help."

Matty glances away, looks toward the ceiling, considers, then, "I don't need anything from his house. You don't have to go there. I don't want you to go there."

"You don't have things there?" George asks.

Matty shakes his head and mumbles, "He'll hurt you."

"Matty-"

"He will!" Matty insists. He feels a little bit hysterical and continues, "He'll hurt you 'cause he hates you and you, you don't deserve that, George, he'll hurt you, and-"

"Shh, Matty, 's ok," George murmurs. "'s ok. Everything's ok. We're gonna go home, yeah? I'm gonna take you home."

"Don't wanna go home," Matty mumbles.

"That's ok. We can go to mine if you'd rather, point is, you're gonna be safe. You don't have to see him again."

"Never?"

"Never," George promises. "Never again."

#my fic #matty healy #george daniel #matty x george

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